Green With Envy
by LittleMissLoony
Summary: Hermione was always the best, and she most certainly could not become second best to Harry Potter. But what happens when they find themselves with mysteries and secrets to unfold? Set during the trio's 6th year. Maybe rated M later on, in progress.
1. Chapter One

**A/N: A Harry/Hermione fanfic. My first actually, so I'd love your opinion on this. Yes, that little button saying "Review". That is what it is there for! I will say at this point that it does getter slightly darker as it goes along... just a word of warning for those of you with a nervous disposition!**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter except the love I have for it in my heart.**

* * *

_Potions. If it had been any other year, I would have half-enjoyed it. Even if Snape had been teaching us, which is saying something. I cannot bear to come second best to Harry again. Yes, I admit it; I'm jealous. Not of his potion-making- far from it- but the fact he's cheating with that stupid Half-Blood Prince book. There is no way on earth Harry would ever give it up. He always has some sort of excuse as to why he needs it. Honestly, it will not work._

"Oh Drakie!"

I had barely walked into the room before stifling a giggle at a completely mad Pansy Parkinson and indifferent Draco Malfoy sitting at their table. He looked so helpless. Of course he did; Pansy was like a leech on him. Harry, who was already at our table, unpacking, smiled to himself when he noticed Pansy's shrieks and whines.

I ignored this entertaining show the two Slytherins had put on, and purposefully gave Harry a glowering look, which he blatantly ignored as he set up his cauldron.

"Look Hermione, you're a perfectly good enough witch yourself, so I don't see why-" he muttered quietly before I sharply cut across him.

"Forget it, Harry. I couldn't care less anymore."

I hated being so cold towards him. It's not like he, himself, had done anything wrong; it was just my envy of his praise. I sighed, knowing that I shouldn't get in an argument with him. I couldn't afford to lose him as a best friend. Ron was already less than happy with me over Slughorn's parties. I didn't want to cheat either. I was far above that.

"Today, students, we'll be making an advanced version of the Befuddlement Draught. Books out, quickly!" Professor Slughorn, being his cheery round self, was slightly bemused by the daft expression on Pansy's face.

Finely slicing my Gurdyroots, thirty minutes through, I knew there would be no point in trying today without falling short against yours truly. I glanced at Harry again, whose head was so close to the Advanced Potion-Making textbook that I really wanted to whack him with it. No. Again, I was far above that.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" He didn't even look up, his lips set hard in concentration. This gave me a sudden inspiration.

"Never mind."

I hid another smirk, and continued with my potion, following the printed (not handwritten and untrustworthy) instructions of my textbook, as my potion turned a pleasant cerise colour. Harry's was also the same colour, though slightly darker, as the book suggested. _Well... not for long._

Slipping a porcupine quill into Harry's concoction, I knew it wouldn't cause anything to drastic to happen - at least, not that I knew of. No one was watching, not even Ron, who was coughing through a thick purple smoke that was issuing from his cauldron. It instantly turned a deep ivy green, which I smiled at, knowing anything else he did with the potion afterwards wouldn't work.

"Hermione-" Harry began, and my stomach twisted in knots with guilt. _Please don't tell me you saw that,_ I begged silently.

He had barely covered himself before the potion exploded, his arms instantly splattered with a green plastic, paint-like substance. I gasped, but it was drowned out by the laughs and jeers coming from the Slytherin table. His face was untouched, but his shirt was covered in the stuff, along with some flecks in his hair, and I didn't want to laugh at all. I felt terribly ashamed, and Slughorn made it all the more worse.

"Well, Harry, this is a shock, but it seems that you won't be getting a mark for this." Slughorn sighed in a disappointed tone.

Harry looked at me furiously for a few seconds, which went unnoticed by anyone but me, and I bit my lip silently, my mind toying with the idea of confessing. The guilt was eating away at me, and I glanced down to my hands.

"Actually-" he started. I threw a pleading look at him, desperate not to get in trouble._ I'm a prefect, for Merlin's sake! _He paused, his expression strange. "No, I guess I just wasn't concentrating, sir."

I sighed with relief, and promised to myself that I would make it up to him. It wasn't as if he hadn't been humiliated enough in any of Snape's lessons before. I owed him an explanation of some kind at the very least. The bell rang, but I didn't move, as everyone else began to pack up. Malfoy continued to make petty insults at Harry, just within earshot, but I ignored them.

"You coming?" Ron asked, but Harry was still trying to clear his cauldron, and I didn't want to leave without apologising.

"I'll see you at lunch, Ron. You go ahead," I replied, packing up my wand and quill slowly.

"Right, see you later then."

Harry and I were the only two left in the potions room. Slughorn had left already for lunch. Harry didn't say anything to me, or even look at me at all, but his expression was still unsettling. I sat back down cautiously, my bag still open upon the table. I didn't know what to say.

"Why did you do that?" he finally said, his tone somewhere between anger and annoyance. "Were you _green _with envy, then?"

"I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean for that to happen. _That_ book is dangerous. You shouldn't be using it. Harry, don't you realise-"

"Hermione, just drop the act. You can't stand the fact that for once I'm better at you in a subject," he interrupted, bitterly, washing off the green pigment along his arms.

I could not believe what I was hearing. How could he accuse me of caring more about my grades than my friend's wellbeing? I felt like such a hypocrite - of course that was what I'd done. I couldn't admit that though, could I? I really wish I had hit him over the head. Right now, he deserved it. Knowing I would end up arguing against that statement, I kept quiet for a few moments, constantly scowling.

"Harry, let me speak plainly. I do not care about your Outstanding grades right now. This obsession - don't you see that it's just Riddle's diary all over again?"

"You're wrong. The Prince-"

"_The Prince?_" I scoffed, letting loose my anger at him for being so ignorant.

"That Levicorpus spell has nothing to do with it! Everyone used it, even my-"

"Your dad? Harry, I doubt even _he_ would do something this stupid and irresponsible! You're just throwing this all back in your parents' faces! They wanted you safe!"

I don't know what made me say that. For a second, I didn't even think I said it at all. I did know, however, that Harry had taken it the wrong way. He stared at me, his eyes harsh and cold as he did so. I swallowed, my throat dry. Harry never looked so upset with me. I was a disappointment to him. He wanted me to support him but this was downright stupid to cheat in a lesson. Why on earth must _he_ be an exception to that rule? Standing up, he was bare inches away from me. Threateningly. I didn't bat an eyelid.

"Don't."

He clenched his wand in his hand, almost considering aiming it at me.

"Say."

He wavered for a moment.

"That again," he finished through gritted teeth, and reached for his bag again, wanting to leave the room as quickly as possible. I had definitely struck a nerve. He had never threatened to turn his wand upon me in the years I had known him.

_Actions speak louder than words, _I thought, and before Harry realised, I grasped the book out of the corner of his bag and ran for it. I'm not quite sure why I had done that, but at least it would prove that he couldn't use it to cheat in Potions. I kept running, completely unaware of how far ahead I was, as long as I could keep the darn book away from him. I turned suddenly, into a shortcut behind a tapestry and made my way on the seventh floor.

Ah, the Room of Requirement! I knew Harry would eventually be able to get into the Room, but there were plenty of hiding places. Once inside, I searched throughout the maze of abandoned old objects for a safe place to conceal the Potions book, yet sure there was someone behind me also.

"Hermione?" Harry's voice echoed from the other side of the room. Footsteps soon followed. "Hermione! I'm sorry!"

I crouched beside an old cabinet, which I recognised from a few years previously. True, I could have had time to cast a Disillusionment charm, but it had completely slipped my mind. Before I knew it, a hand had been clasped over my mouth, another restraining my shoulders. The last amount of breath I had was used to scream, which was muffled instantly. My wand - it had fallen from my cloak, a few feet away. I felt my captor's wand being drawn at my throat, and I raised my hands in surrender, trying to turn my head to see who was holding me, but I couldn't see in the darkness that ensued.

"Harry!" I struggled for a while before I saw him at the other end of the row of shelves. He didn't hear or see me.

Eventually, whoever was keeping me captive had slackened their grip, obviously more worried about Harry being a threat than me. That was just one of the problems of being Harry's friend, among several others. I dragged my foot slowly towards my discarded wand. In one swift movement, I pushed myself back against the wall and aimed a jinx at the silhouette behind me, which in turn toppled over.

"Hermione?"

I gasped and span around, ready to aim again. It was Harry. He rushed towards me, at first, I thought, but instead was pointing his wand at the unmoving body on the floor. The light from his Lumos spell proved the person to be Draco Malfoy. Questions and queries alerted in my head: What was he doing here? Had Malfoy been made a Death Eater, to stay within the school, like Harry said he might be? If this is really so dangerous and important, should I let Harry use the book to help him and Dumbledore?

There was something more important that came to mind.

"Harry, I- I'm truly sorry." My voice uttered out in the darkness. "I never meant to say that about your parents. I wasn't thinking-"

Harry looked back at me. His eyes locked onto mine. I reached down and picked up the Half-Blood Prince's book at my feet, cautious of whether to hand it to him. He still looked at me, as if I was insane to be acting so normally after the event, and held my shoulder, the tenderness of which he held it seemed unusual, almost foreign. I could feel he was extremely sorry, for everything, as was I. Neither of us wanted to argue anymore.

"Hermione," he whispered, sighing softly.

The way he said my name soothed me. I understood why he was this stubborn. He was always ready to fight for what he thought was right, regardless of what I, or anyone else, usually thought. He never gave up. That was why he wouldn't let go of the book.

We were so close that I noticed the specs of green in his hair were like the unmistakable emerald of his eyes. I forgot that we were slowly pulling into a hug. I forgot that Harry's hands were moving from my shoulders to my waist. The book fell from my fingertips, and my arms drew closer around his torso. He didn't show any recognition of the book thudding on the floor, his cheek pressed against mine for mere moments. I caught a glimpse of his lips as he took in my quickened breaths, his mouth edging towards my own.

The light, almost curious touch of his mouth upon mine took barely seconds for me to reciprocate, unfamiliar, but pleasantly so. my heart still beat fast with uncertainty and slowly-relieved adrenaline. My hand reached for his, a silent promise that I had forgiven him, and a silent hope that he had forgiven me.


	2. Chapter Two

"I... Harry, I can't do this."

I tried to pull back, but Harry's hands were still tangled in my curly hair. His deep green eyes looked into mine for a moment, but I turned away, furious at myself for kissing him. Ron was right before, I am a _scarlet woman_.

"What?" Harry held onto my hand, confused, searching my face for an answer. "Hermione, you can't say that didn't mean anything-"

"It's Ron." I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall in frustration. "I can't do this to him. You're his best friend."

"And so are you. He'd understand, wouldn't he?" Harry asked, clearly not understanding the situation himself.

"This is _Ron_ we're on about here. I'm sure it'd take him a while, and you might end up in the hospital wing for a month. You know he likes me more than a friend, otherwise he wouldn't be acting so strange and messing around with... Lavender." I started pacing, careful not to step on Malfoy's hand and wake him up.

"Please, as if-"

Harry paused, and glanced around, his grip tightening on his wand again as he aimed it at the still unmoving body of Draco Malfoy. He appeared to stir slightly and Harry and I both looked back at each other before running out of the Room of Requirement in a panic.

"Never mind Ron now. What about Malfoy?" He crossed his arms, and smiled smugly for a moment, waiting. I rolled my eyes and did not want to accept the fact that Harry was probably right.

"So? That was not proof." I retorted.

Harry seemed to have two obsessions; not only the Potions book, but his idea that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. Even I knew it was incredibly far-fetched. He had constantly checked the Marauders' Map and every corridor like some sort of secret agent. If I could somehow stop him with his infatuation with the Half-Blood Prince, would I be able to do the same with his "Death Eater" theory?

"Harry?" I tugged on his sleeve, he nudged it away. "The book's still in there, you know."

I laughed as he swore. That's one of the many things I did admire about him - the fact that he would throw his stresses away with a few curses, not in a literal magic way, of course. I thought to myself that it was odd, because I'm a well mannered (up to a point) student and as a prefect, I would never let someone swear in front of me. This was Harry. An exception.

I didn't really know what I felt for him. The kiss; the kiss was amazing. But it wasn't the fact that our lips actually made contact that affected me. We both obliged. I think Harry was still trying to recover from the annoyance of leaving his book. There went my wish of him forgetting about that. I tutted aloud and Harry frowned at me, before peeking around the corner to check the abandoned seventh floor corridor. He siphoned off the green substance from his hair and robes with his wand, constantly checking that the coast was clear.

"Harry, you are not seriously thinking of going back in there when Malfoy still is."

"'Course not." He said, still waiting for Draco to leave and then taking the Marauder's map out of his pocket. "I'll just wait for him to leave. He'll appear just there."

I rolled my eyes as he pointed at the spot opposite the invisible area where the Room of Requirement should have been. "You're unbelievable."

"Thanks."

"I didn't mean it as a compliment." I stared at the Great Hall. "Ron? We've left him waiting at the Gryffindor table all this time. He's going to hate us."

"Well, we might as well tell him now, so he can get it over and done with. Kidding!" He teased. I looked at him, shocked, before he found a shortcut behind a mirror that led to the first floor.

We rushed along the corridors to the Great Hall, and Ron was unsurprisingly eating lunch like there was no tomorrow. He didn't really notice the two of us sit down opposite him.

"Sorry we're late, Ron. I just had to ask Slughorn some questions."

"About extra homework no less." Harry joined in with this lie, smiling as he helped himself to a sandwich.

"N'ver m'nd thn." Ron said, his mouth full. That was one thing that really wasn't a good habit. He swallowed. "You work too much, Hermione."

"Ron's right, you know." Harry added. I kicked Harry's shin and he winced. _How could he behave like this? Doesn't he understand?_

The rest of the day followed in the same way, with hardly any lessons with Harry or Ron. A perfect chance to think. Later that night, however, each time Harry made a joke about me, I shrugged it off, and secretly, it was getting more and more annoying.

I peered into to the derelict library: no one came in on a nice warm day like today. It was perfect for studying, and there would be plenty more days to enjoy the weather later. It wasn't just the fact that the library had very few people inside, but the fact that I could avoid Harry and any references to what happened yesterday. Thank Merlin for Saturday Quidditch practice.

Browsing the bookshelves, I wondered what Harry was thinking when he kissed me. Did he just think it was a spur of the moment thing? That's how he was acting. I took out two books and gasped at the face on the other side, whose hand had taken the other book I wanted. Draco Malfoy.

"Hi, ferret face. Please bugger off, this library is for intelligent people only." I snapped, masking my anxiety. I wondered if he was concussed after the incident yesterday. He seemed disorientated and surprised when I spoke.

"Ooh, touchy." He sidled across out of sight behind the bookcase, smirking when he saw me around the corner. "If so, I should be the only one here."

"_As if._" I muttered under my breath, and turned back down the small corridor of bookcases until I reached my usual table. I kept looking up from my work, realising he was just being his typical bigheaded self. If only I could get him thrown out. I sat there for at least twenty minutes, finishing long runes translations and arithmancy questions, before he annoyed me again.

_Tap, tap._

I looked around for what felt like the billionth time, frowning at Malfoy... but this time I thought he wasn't doing anything. I continued with my work.

_Tap, tap, tap._

"DRACO MALFOY! STOP IT!"

Then I was thrown out of the library for disrupting other pupils. For the first time. Ever.

* * *

I was the first one to lunch out of the Gryffindors. Harry, Ginny and Ron were still at practice, and I was sure that Malfoy would enter the Great Hall and annoy me further. I can't believe how embarrassing that was. Vile, stupid, immature idiot. I glanced continuously at the door, barely eating my stroganoff. Since when was I this agitated?

"I told you before, Goyle. I don't..." Malfoy muttered, in that way when someone forgets to whisper.

I could hear a strange tone to his voice, worried, almost scared. I hadn't looked up for the last few seconds, and wondered if he was looking at me. I couldn't see why he wouldn't, considering I was one of the very few there. He was quiet. That really was strange. He sat on his own table, further away from me, I was happy to notice. I smiled, and jumped suddenly when a big boot landed upon my foot.

"OW!" I exclaimed, before turning to see who it was. "Ron, honestly!"

The pressure lifted as Ron made an apologetic face before slumping against the table. Today was becoming ever more odd. Ron wasn't hungry. I glanced at Harry, who sat down opposite me, gesturing as to why he was so grumpy, and he reacted with a "don't even ask" expression.

"How was practice?" I asked. I didn't care if Harry wanted me not to.

"Terrible." Ron mumbled through the wool of his jumper he rested his head on.

"Why?" I continued. Harry glared at me, as if trying to make me stop asking Ron anything further.

"Because I was playing."

"For Merlin's sake, Ron... right, what was so bad? You haven't played badly unless you were struck by nerves. And today was only practice. There isn't even a game happening yet."

"There is too!" This time both Ron and Harry looked up in horror, obviously thinking I was going completely crazy. _Boys._

"What?"

"A month's time. Versus Slytherin." Harry pointed out. His foot touched mine under the table; he smiled. "But really, Ron, there's nothing to worry about. You'll be fine, I'm sure of it."

Sometimes I wanted to hate Harry. This was one of those extremely rare times. I expected most lunchtimes and dinners would be the same. Why was he trying to make me look like the person to blam in all of this for not loving Quidditch? Just because I'm not a big fan of flying...

* * *

I sat in bed, wide awake at around one in the morning. I hated school. Not 'school' specifically, but everything to do with it at that moment. Harry, Malfoy, Quidditch, Slytherins, the Half-Blood Prince... everything. And besides that, the reason I was up was my Arithmancy revision. Curse that idiot, Malfoy. If it wasn't for him I wouldn't even need to stay up so late. I sighed aloud.

"Oi... Hermione..."

I frowned, and peeked my head through the curtains around my four-poster bed. No one else would be awake at this hour without being in the Common Room or making so much noise none of us in the dormitory would be awake. I almost woke up Lavender, who was in the bed opposite, by my gasp. I opened the window closest to me, where Harry was hovering on his Firebolt.

"Harry, what the hell are you-"

He held a finger to his lips and I got the message, casting Muffliato around us. Harry smirked. I hated his smirk lately; it reminded me so much of Malfoy.

"So the Prince isn't that bad then?" He scoffed.

"Shut up. Okay, I admit, the book has its uses," I stared at him, my frown deepening. "You wouldn't believe how much trouble you'd get into if I told McGonogall."

"Please, Hermione. I want to talk."

"Well?" I shivered, and hugged my pillow in front of me. I was not going to let Harry see me in my pyjamas, or lack thereof, seeing as I was wearing only a vest and shorts. "Get on with it."

"If you get changed, I'll show you in a minute." He averted his gaze back outside, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks.

I don't know why I listened to him. I could just have easily have shut the window in his face and given him a detention there and then. Instead, I dived back under my curtains and pulled on a thick woolen jumper, praying that he wasn't up to something stupid.

**I've decided to update chapters of this story at intervals with my other one, so I will at least have both stories continuing. Thanks for the reviews ;) And keep on doing so!**


	3. Chapter Three

**Thanks for the reviews. I think I'll keep going with this for a lot longer, possibly twenty to thirty chapters depending where I go with it. I promise the next chapter will be cheerier!**

* * *

"I don't have a bloody clue what you're up to, but if you dare get us in trouble you will be cursed into the next millenium!"

I stood on the window ledge, in a warm knitted jumper and jeans, and hesitated before allowing Harry to help me onto his broom. I knew it was a bad idea, let alone for the fact that I was breaking the rules, but because of my frantic phobia of heights. This was not the only reason why I was so edgy and cold. If Harry had just stopped being so strange and confusing lately, despite what had happened in the Room of Requirement, I would not be acting like this. Harry said he understood the situation. Then again, this was Harry Potter, my best friend, Potions rival and complete idiot.

"Language, Hermione!"

"Harry, shut up!"

Paranoid, I looked back into the dormitory, checking for any sign of movement. If anyone woke up, they would have a field day talking about the pair of us, especially Lavender and the Patil twins. Leaving the window open, just a sliver, I linked my arms around Harry's torso and closed my eyes.

"Well, you didn't have to come." I heard him say, and realised we hadn't moved with a blink of one eye.

"But I'd rather we both were in trouble than you alone. Merlin knows what would happen to you!" I joked, throwing a smirk in his direction.

"'Mione!" Harry frowned, pretending to be insulted. He smiled, and at first I took this as reassurance... until he dived down to the Hogwarts grounds below.

"Harry! Get me off now! Don't you dare let me fall!" I screamed over and over, thinking him completely bonkers.

"Not possible, Hermione! If I let you off now, you will fall!"

I didn't know what to think of Harry at that point. I was too scared to move an inch, and guessed that Harry wasn't taking my being there into account. I understood that it was exhilirating to have the cool breeze in my face like that. It was the swooping feeling in the pit of my stomach I hated; the sensation that made me nauseous and dizzy, and yet this time I don't think it was the flying that caused it.

"Harry?"

I noticed the stop of motion as I opened my eyes again. Harry elbowed my arm and I felt my feet meet with the ground, letting go of him abruptly. I could tell he was smiling, or rather smirking, at me in the darkness. It was extremely odd, the fact that I had even agreed to the idea of sneaking out at night. Did he think I was stupid for hating heights or something? My head had been so confused lately I had one of those rare moments where I didn't know what to think.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. Shouldn't've spooked you like that."

"Of course you shouldn't have! You-"

I looked around quickly, trying to figure out where we were. It was a fairly familiar area of the castle, but I didn't recognise it in the dark very well. The lights turned on. Professor Albus Dumbledore appeared at his desk, and I felt my cheeks blush furiously. Harry knew I didn't like making a fool of myself, let alone in front of a teacher.

"Oh sorry, Professor."

"Nothing to worry about, Harry wanted you to come and see me. Something urgent, apparently."

I glanced back at Harry, frowning. What could be so urgent as to wake me (though I wouldn't have had any sleep either way) and sneak me to Dumbledore's office? I sat in the armchair Dumbledore gestured at, and didn't take my eyes off of the two wizard extraordinaires I was in the company of.

"Sir, yesterday I - _we_ - found Draco Malfoy in the Room of Requirement. I know, a lot of people think I'm paranoid." Harry explained, sending an obvious glare in my direction at this point. "But I'm sure he's up to something."

"And you know something about this, Miss Granger?"

"Er... well, sir. Draco was in the Room at the time, but-" I glanced at Harry, who looked disbelievingly back at me. "-but I don't really think he was up to something bad. We didn't actually see him do anything illegal or dangerous..."

"Harry, I understand that you have a great hatred of Draco Malfoy, but you can't blame someone for something they haven't done. Thank you for your time, Miss Granger, sorry to have woken you, you may leave. If Argus Filch comes by, tell him it was on my orders."

Harry was at the door in a heartbeat with his broom on his shoulder. I couldn't see his face clearly, but guessed that he would have a go at me as soon as we left.

Professor Dumbledore turned back to his desk, looking more old and weary than I'd ever seen him. I knew he was very old, a hundred years at least, but he was an unbelievably strong and clever wizard regardless. I glanced at his withered hand before walking over to the spiral staircase. Harry was halfway down the corridor before I reached the bottom of the stairs. I sprinted over to him and he walked on.

"What?" I asked him, thinking he was completely overreacting. "Harry-"

"It's Draco _bloody_ Malfoy! What else would he have been up to? It's obvious! Why did you tell Dumbledore nothing was wrong?"

"Because he wasn't doing anything wrong! Dumbledore was right, you hate him so much you can't stand it that he's not in trouble this one time!" I glared warningly at him, as he was about to argue back. "He knew that I was there, yes, he tried to stop me from finding out what he was up to, but Merlin me! I can look after myself!"

I clenched my fists and raised an eyebrow at Harry's expression. He looked shocked, almost scared.

"Malfoy attacked you?" He whispered in the dark, worry in his eyes and searching my face. The way he seemed to pick up on these things, the ivy green of his irises picking up every little thing he could piece together from the way I looked... the way I talked. He knew the answer before I gave it to him.

"Well, in a way, yes! But really? You seriously believe You-Know Who would use a sixteen year old for his plans?"

"Yes!"

"Right. You're crazy. First the Half-Blood Prince, now this! Gosh, you're..." I paused, as Harry stood inches away from me, a small smile playing on his lips despite it all. Did he really just want to irk me? I breathed a laugh and leaned closer for a moment, before finishing, "... a prat."

"See you tomorrow. Guess you'll be happy to end up with a T in Potions." He sighed in an irritated tone, and shrugged his Invisibilty Cloak onto his shoulders.

Harry disappeared beneath the cloak in a heartbeat and I then wished I hadn't shouted at him like that. Why did I have to do that? Feeling exhausted was no excuse. I'd just had a terrible fight with my best friend, and all the evidence Harry gave did point into the direction that Malfoy was not doing

I knew my way around the castle fairly well by this point. Probably even better than most of the teachers. I moved a tapestry, and all that appeared was a blank stone wall. I frowned. This was definitely the third floor. I pressed against the wall and it dissolved; I kept a mental note that I shouldn't teach Harry any more disguising spells. I ran up the shortcut at a sprint, desperate to know where he had gone to. I doubted he would have returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, and headed in the direction of the Room of Requirement.

I lit my wand immediately, and walked past the empty wall for a few moments. The door didn't appear at all. He was in that bloody room looking for that stupid book right now. I stormed off across the corridor towards the portrait of the Fat Lady, which was also empty.

"Aaargh!" I moaned in anger and stomped my foot. I knew I probably looked silly, but no-one was around and I had no other way to vent my frustration. I sat down, resting my head against the wall and soon enough, sleep overwhelmed me.

* * *

A hand slid against my shoulder in my sleep, I felt, unconciously, and moved to stroke my hair. I felt a tendril being curled back behind me ear. My eyes fluttered for a moment, before I hunched back against the wall and fell into a slumber again.

* * *

Something knocked against my arm, waking me, after quite a while. It shook again. If it was Harry I wanted to curse him there and then for leaving me out here alone. I squinted at the figure now moving my head and shook their hand away. I heard a sigh and thump on the floor that made me jump. A book, looking remarkably like the Half-Blood Prince's, was lying in front of me.

"Harry!"

"Well? You'd look like a fool sitting out here in the middle of the night." Harry replied. I scowled at him, as he grabbed the book off the floor and left the portrait door open. "I suppose I had to come to the rescue." He flourished the book in the air like a trophy before placing it in his bag.

"Harry James Potter! If you don't come back here and tell me what you're up to right now-"

In one moment, whilst I was following him, he turned around and gripped my shoulders tightly. I drew my head back, surprised. What was he doing? I found myself again looking in his eyes, that deep glossy green. They were filled with question, as if he didn't know whether to be angry or upset. I could tell he blamed me. He gently leaned his head towards mine, our lips brushing ever so slightly. No... I tasted the soft, mellow deliciousness of his lips, sweet like before. _How dare he? _I brought myself back to my senses_. _I didn't want to enjoy the intense pressure his mouth was soon putting on my own. I pushed him away forcefully and felt like shouting at him again until I heard someone's footsteps start tumbling down the stairs from the boys' dormitory.I ran towards the closest armchair and grabbed one of the many books beside it and pretended to be engrossed in its contents. Harry smiled, in an odd, almost upset way, and turned at the sight of Ronald Weasley.

"Harry?" Ron yawned as he stood in the doorway, confused as to why both of us were up so late. "Hermione, you really shouldn't be doing revision at a time like this. _Honestly._"

I heard the two of them snigger, probably at Ron's pitch-perfect mimic of me. Harry was just going to go along with it, That was it - I wished Harry had not revisited the Room to retrieve the Half-Blood Prince's book. I fled the room, stalking off quickly before the others could stop me. I almost felt like whacking the two of the over the head. Harry's and Ron's voices echoed around the Common Room before I had reached the girls' dormitory door.

"What's up with her?"

"I dunno. Girl troubles."

I threw the book across the room, suprising even myself. Why did Harry have to confuse me like this? Was he trying to get back at me, for not telling all to Dumbledore? I wondered if Harry had any real evidence. Yes, Malfoy did not want me around at that time, but did that mean he was doing something wrong?

I felt odd. Normally_ I_ was the voice of reason; I thought Harry's Firebolt was sent by Sirius in our third year, I thought Snape was protecting the Philosopher's stone. What if Harry was right this once? He couldn't prove anything without my help.


	4. Chapter Four

I was actually happy that in a few days we would be heading on a Hogsmeade weekend. Every given moment during Sunday and Monday there was no chance that I would ever get out of Prefect Duty, and Tuesday evening, sitting in the armchair which was practically claimed as my own, Harry wouldn't give me any peace and quiet either.

"What are we going to do about Ron?" Harry asked, taking the armchair opposite me and pulling it closer around the fire.

"Nothing. Nothing really happened did it?"

"What are you talking about?" We said at once, mirroring each other's confused faces.

"Quidditch." Harry answered and smirked. If that was Malfoy's face I would hit it; their smirks had become so similar. Then again, next time I had a chance, I promised to myself that Malfoy would feel a book against his head.

"Merlin! Is that all you think about?" I sighed, and turned a page of the book I was reading.

"Shhh... I know what _you _mean though. How can you say nothing happened?"

"Well, we can't let it become something, can we?"

I looked at Harry, wondering how on earth I had ever gotten over the pain he had been over the weekend. It was a miracle to say the least that Harry swore that he wouldn't use the Half-Blood Prince in our next Potions class, which was as good an apology as I was going to get. I think some of the things I had said and done were a bit uncalled for too. I was supposed to be his best friend, or whatever I was to him, considering our kiss - no, two kisses - and I had to trust his judgement, especially over Draco Malfoy.

"Why not?"

Still with our eyes meeting, I tried to read the expression on his face, the same as it had been after he last kissed me and I pushed him away. I wished I hadn't... despite everything.

"Because." I answered carefully.

"And that makes it better does it?"

"Look, you're my best friend. I can't let it get any more complicated." I told him; I really didn't want to argue any more. "People will start asking questions."

"What?"

"Never mind... just..." I changed the subject, knowing he wouldn't understand. "I'm saying that I'll help you. I can find out what Malfoy's up to."

"How?"

"You're not terribly subtle with your suspicions, are you?"

"And you are? 'Oh, I was just wondering, that boy that just came in here-'" Harry mimicked me, and I blushed deeply in embarrassment, before threateningly lifting up my book. Harry paused and smiled for a moment. I don't know what at, but I guessed he was still taking the mickey. "Okay, so you believe me?"

"Well, I really doubt he is a Death Eater, but he's definitely up to something. I know every spell in the book, so I know what I'm doing. He was probably just being vigilant when he found me."

"Really? I still can't believe that he... well, I can actually."

"If you're on about him attacking me, it was nothing. He just grabbed me and I jinxed him, so I'm fine. Not so sure about him though... he's been acting really odd lately. I think I might have caused him a concussion."

Harry grinned at that, and replied, "Good. He deserves it."

Ron appeared from the portrait hole, and I suddenly stopped, wondering why on earth he wasn't in the library doing his Charms. Typical. Homework, as far as Ron thought, was always to be left for the night before.

_"Ron."_ I hissed towards Harry.

"I never want to do Charms homework again." I heard Ron grumble, and I turned a page of my book sharply, waiting for him to make a point of me sitting doing homework as usual.

"I don't see why you couldn't've just-" Harry gestured towards me, and I wished he hadn't. Ron really did not want to get help from me now. And nor did I want to give it to him.

_"Ron."_

_"Hermione."_ He spoke in the same tone.

"Never mind." Harry muttered under his breath and tried not to look at the two of us.

"You were saying, Harry?" Ron spoke quite cheerfully in comparison to his words to me, which I was unsurprised about. "No, Lavender says she'll offer to help."

"Of course..." I murmured, and rolled my eyes.

"What was that?"

"Oh... nothing. I just knew eventually you would have a go at me for whatever I've done."

_"Hermione-I-don't-think-now's-the-time." _Harry whispered, trying to stop the situation becoming any more awkward and harsh.

Ron slung his bag over his shoulder again and narrowed his eyes at me before waving at Lavender across the common room. She happily rushed to his side and snaked her arms around him... like some kind of snake. I hated the thought of the Ron and Lavender becoming an item; yet I did like the fact that he would be so preoccupied with Lavender that Harry and I could discuss Malfoy in peace.

"What was all that about?" Harry said.

"Ginny told me that Ron's been so angry about Quidditch - _stupid obsession_ - that he's taking it out on everyone left, right and centre."

"True. I don't know how I'll survive the run up to the next match with him acting like this."

"He's just so annoying lately."

"And yet I excel at that, don't I?" He stretched out in his armchair, his hair falling forward in front of his eyes. I never really noticed how good his hair looked when it was so unruly. My cheeks flared at the thought that I would think of him any more in that way.

"Oh, shut up, you."

"I don't want you two fighting. To be honest, I'm grateful you don't like him in that way..."

He broke off, and I could tell the reddening of my cheeks would get far worse before it got better. Smiling, Harry lay further back and kicked the cover of my book, leaving it shut in my lap. I rose an eyebrow and asked him:

"Why would that be?"

"No reason." He sat up slightly straighter, and looked down at his own book. It was only at that point that I realised it was his Potions book. He was in for it.

"A likely story. Listen... Harry... can we sort this out in Potions tomorrow, when no one's around?"

I don't know why I had to add the last few words of that sentence, because I sensed that Harry would take it as an opportunity to bombard me with questions. Did he think "this" meant our plan about Malfoy, or about us? I would just have to wait and see.

"Oh... sure."

I stood up, just about to leave my bag by my bed, before a seventh-year pointed me out and handed me a wad of parchment. Oh. The joys of Prefect Duties.

* * *

I waited in the Owlery for ten minutes, wondering who else was doing their Prefect Duty with me today. If it was a Slytherin, I would not be a happy bunny, seeing as it was likely one of them would try and Transfigure me into one sooner or later.

"Evening, Granger."

As if my day could not get any worse... Draco Malfoy frowned at me in the doorway, and shrugged, fairly clearly regretting being dragged into Prefect Duty as much as I was.

"Same, ferret. You're late. I wonder why?" I grinned at his surprised glance at me.

"What?"

"You always seem to wander off. I wouldn't put it past you to be doing something good either."

"You know me so well, don't you?" He headed for the stairs, and I followed, trying to ignore his sarcastic comments. "Been to the library lately? That was entertaining. Honestly."

I scowled at him, "Do you really have to be such a prat?"

"You do know I didn't get you thrown out? Well, not really."

"What? Then how-"

We reached the first floor of the Owlery, where a dozen owls were already perched in their windows, and the others left unoccupied. Several hooted at the sight of two new faces, and I lit my wand, holding it high above my head. The gleaming white light reflected against Draco's perfectly blond hair, which I had to admit looked good, but in a stupid stylish Slytherin way that was clearly expected of someone like him. I laughed at the thought that he would have a receding hair line in years to come.

"I just happened to get an owl when you had your little strop."

"I was not in a strop!" I said, in controversy to how I was behaving at the time. "I mean... sorry..."

"Pardon? What was that?"

"At least I have manners, Malfoy!" I bit back a few choice words that would have been thrown at him if I had no self control. "Actually... what was the letter about then?"

I smiled sarcastically, and poked him in the back with my wand.

"None of your business." He frowned.

"I wonder what it has to do with your disappearances..."

"What do you mean?" He glanced over his shoulder at me, curious for my answer. I supposed that he would have known it was me that knocked him out in the Room of Requirement, but he would not admit that he was beaten by a girl, me, a Muggleborn, for that.

"You just scuttle off after lessons. And knowing you, Pansy doesn't have a clue." I strolled by him and smiled again, waiting for him to crack. My smile faltered when he smirked back at me.

"You should be grateful."

"Why? Why should I?"

"I know your secret."

"What are you talking about?"

"Potter and Granger. What a story to slip past the Weasel... I'm sure he'd be very interested."

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"But you can't. And you would have had to have been in the Room at the time, obviously up to no good. If only Dumbledore knew."

His eyes widened in shock and then narrowed menacingly at me. In one swift movement he held his wand at my throat. I moved back, and grabbed my wand instinctively but he already forced me back against the wall.

"_Don't_." He growled, and I realised how far apart we were from each other. For a moment, I really did think he would curse me. I gulped.

"What if we made a deal? You keep my secret, I'll keep yours." I begged, trying to avoid his piercing eyes.

His eyes. They looked so similar to his father's, Lucius Malfoy. I hated to think about the events of last summer, the fear and panic running through my mind; there was only one thing I regretted, and that was agreeing to go to the Ministry. I didn't want to blame Harry for putting everyone's lives at stake, despite the fact that few of us actually were hurt. He wanted to help Sirius: I would have done the same. I was at least grateful that everyone believed him about Voldemort afterwards, and that was when I realised that I was doing the same to Harry now. I wouldn't believe him. What if he _was_ right? Was Draco really a Death Eater, like his father?

"I'll think about it." He enjoyed having this power over me, with his lip twisting upwards at the corner as it always did.

I don't know why I was so upset, but for once, miraculously, Malfoy was uncomfortable with me acting in this way. I doubt if I'd ever cried in front of him before. He smirked and I pushed him away, before slapping him across the face. He then threw a loathing look in my direction, which I expected. What I did not expect was for Malfoy to aim his wand at me and cast a spell...

**Did you notice that reference to the epilogue in there? :) Receding hairline *snigger*. I haven't been able to update for a while because my computer wasn't working, but it's up and running now, luckily. Happy Halloween, and please review!**


	5. Chapter Five

I was temporarily blinded, unable to find my orientations, and felt something tug at my neck. I dropped to the floor seconds later.

"At least this way I'll be able to make sure you won't tell." Draco whispered. His breath felt as if it was barely an inch away from me, ticklish, but I didn't dare move.

I looked down at the place where my legs and feet should have been, they were replaced with little rabbit feet, and I was much closer to the ground than I realised. I twisted around as much as I could, trying to figure out what else he had done. He had transfigured me into a rabbit, or possibly a hare. I wasn't quite sure which at that point, as the main priority I had was getting him to change me back. I stumbled towards him, not able to find my feet. If he had Transfigured me, why could I still think for myself and not be constantly mindset upon carrots and grass and hopping around? Draco smirked, and fled out of the door swiftly and silently.

I was alone. It was nearly dusk, I noticed through a small crack in the Owlery wall. How was I supposed to sleep? Let alone that, how was I going to turn back into my original self?

* * *

"Where's Hermione?" Ron asked tentatively.

Harry tapped his fingers on his desk, barely concentrating on the Prince's copy of _Advanced Potion Making_ in front of him. He began to wonder if Hermione ever returned after her Prefect Duty last night.

"No idea. Maybe she overslept." He replied casually, though secretly panicking frantically inside.

"I bet it's over our argument last night."

"Stop arguing with her then, and you'd both be able to get on with life."

They glanced at the Slytherin table, where Draco was acting as his usual obnoxious self. Harry remembered what Hermione had told him, that she would help him, regardless of what she thought. He felt terrible, as if he was being just as arrogant as any Slytherin would be, considering he was almost completely certain he was right. That ferret was up to no good.

He supposed he was jealous, that Hermione already knew Ron's feelings for her, even if they weren't reciprocal. Harry had no idea what he felt for her anymore. She didn't want to ruin their friendship and he had the impression that she regretted their kiss in the Room of Requirement. He always expected the three of them to be best friends, albeit the odd argument, but if Ron and Hermione kept fighting, and if he couldn't control his feelings for Hermione, Harry felt that there was no hope that Ron would understand.

"Quidditch practice after Transfiguration, by the way." Harry turned a page of his textbook, not even caring about the healing uses of valerian roots, and heard Ron sigh. Practice was not going to go well.

* * *

Surely someone must realise I'm not there? What if Ron and Harry thought that I was avoiding them on purpose? I had survived the night. That was one thing to be optimistic about.

I had several ideas from here: I could wait for Hagrid, but there was the chance that he might accidently throw me to the Hippogriffs; I could try and get inside the castle, but that was unlikely because Filch or someone would throw me outside... and then there was Quidditch. I was fairly certain Harry and Ron had been planning the week's practice, today, if I was right.

Strangely, I had adjusted to becoming a hare quite well. I didn't really like the taste of grass or any herbs lying around, but I had had to make do for the time being. Even if that did involve trying to find a place to sleep... as far away from anything that could eat me as possible...

Unaware of the time of day, I decided I should get close to the Quidditch pitch before I was too late. I sprinted towards the Quidditch ground, dodging shrubs and other creatures in the grass. I was amazed by how fast I could run, jumping and dashing around the grounds, I guessed this was similar to Harry's love of flying.

It wasn't until after lessons, several hours later, that I had woken up to the chattering of students from the castle grounds. Harry and the others should be here soon, I thought, hidden in a corner, behind the broom cupboard. Even if I couldn't get Harry, Ron, Ginny or anyone on the team to transform me back, I would try my hardest to get them to see who I really was. That was the only flaw. Why would anyone believe that I, just a small jumpy rabbit, was who I really was? It was my only chance - I took it. Harry's voice travelled nearer.

"Do you reckon she's in the hospital wing or something?"

"Harry, I'm telling you, she wasn't in the Gryffindor Tower this morning or with Pomfrey. I checked." Ginny told them, biting her lip.

"She never misses lessons if she can help it - Bloody hell!" Ron shouted.

I jumped across their path, waiting for a second until Ginny ushered me on. She and Harry laughed at his outburst, and walked on. There was no possible way, in a million years, that they would realise it was me. _I might as well just ambush Harry later... _that gave me an idea. I hid in the grass for a few moments, watching Harry and Ron drop their bags near the entrance. Perfect. I dashed down the marsh until I could clamber into Harry's satchel, empty apart from a few books and inkwells. In the misty light, I made out the words _Advanced Potion Making_. If I could frown, I most certainly would have at that moment. He was still going to use that goddamn thing! No, I wasn't supposed to be concentrating on that now. And all I had to do was wait...

"... don't Ron. Just stop it. You're behaving-"

Ron slammed the door from the pitch and I decided that I should at least give them some dignity by not watching them change back into their uniforms. That did not mean that I couldn't eavesdrop.

"...Harry, shut up. I'm resigning!"

"You'd have to be a moron to resign!" Harry yelled back. I knew they had had their petty fights like this, but Harry seemed a lot more hostile by his tone, suggesting that this wasn' t just a usual argument.

"Are you calling me a moron?"

"Maybe I am!"

I tried not to imagine Ron hitting Harry over the head with a Bludger. If only he knew about us. No, Harry and I were not an "us". Oh Merlin, here we go again, I thought, and also regretting that I had been nibbling on Harry's Defence Against the Dark Arts homework for the last five minutes. Snape will not be pleased. Not that he ever was by Harry.

"Look, I wouldn't have made you Keeper if I didn't think you were good enough." Harry sighed, attempting to reassure Ron as best he could.

"Fine, but after the first match, if we lose, I'm quitting."

I guess that was the best result Harry would get out of him. I knew Ron wasn't that bad. He was nervous, and a bit clumsy, for certain. I just didn't take Quidditch seriously enough to understand what it was all about. I would have to try and get Ron more enthusiastic, if Harry could not, it would still be a challenge. I shifted my body to the side, and peeked back down as Ron looked down near the ground, close to where I happened to be. I had to be more careful. Ron would otherwise freak out over a stalking rabbit following him around.

"... I'm heading up to the tower, you coming?"

"Seriously, Harry? Do you know where Hermione went last night? Did she have Prefect Duty?"

"Probably. Look, she'll be in the library, I bet. We only have Potions with her today, maybe she just got caught up helping someone in another lesson."

I was surprised Harry was so calm, compared to Ron, who was flapping around like a maniac. I knew I had to tell Ron that I didn't care for him in that way, but how could I accept Harry to be so relaxed that I wasn't around? Or was it all an act in front of Ron to shut him up?

In several moments though, I heard a rustle of a cloak and the satchel I was occupying was soon hoisted on Harry's shoulder. I had to say, this was much better than flying on a broomstick on a Saturday night. If only I could be carried around all day; I was starting to enjoy this. I peeked out of the small sliver of daylight through his bag, attempting not to make any great movements until I was sure Harry was alone. Anyone else would have thought he was mad. I found I was grateful for Harry's use of shortcuts around the castle, especially considering my annoying demeanour over the last few days about sneaking around. I felt it was part of my nature to reprimand him. He probably thought me a hypocrite too for not following the rules I gave.

When he dumped his bag upon his bed, I, along with most of the bag's contents, spilled out upon the stone floor. Harry stepped back, surprised.

"What the hell? You again?" He frowned, looking down at me. "How-"

I knocked over several ink bottles, two of them smashed on the dormitory floor. My feet made small black rabbit prints across an unused piece of parchment. I stood upright and dragged my front foot along, trying to make something at least legible for Harry to understand. The H, E and R of my name was enough for Harry to gasp, his voice mingled with disgust and shock. He grabbed me by the fur on my neck, and looked at my face. His emerald eyes tried to examine mine.

"Hermione?" He asked, while I tried to make a movement similar to nodding. "I'm going to McGonagall."

He tried to place me back into his bag and I jumped back in of my own accord, but not until I waited for Harry to cast Reparo at the broken inkwells. Being a rabbit mustn't have changed me too much. One thing was accumulating into a mass of worries in my mind. Harry would realise that Malfoy did this to me. I could not let Harry tell Dumbledore any further. I'd have to say that it was someone else... or that I didn't know who it was. I wish I hadn't made that stupid deal. If only Harry would understand that. He could not be oblivious to Ron's feelings for me any more. And neither could I. I would have to tell Ron, before Malfoy did.

"Professor? Professor McGonogall!" Harry called, barely opening the door to Transfiguration. "I really need your help."

"What seems to be the problem, Harry?"

"Here. This... rabbit... look, I promise I'm not going mad. " He paused as he released me from the folds of his bag, allowing me to jump on the desk. "I think it's Hermione. She hasn't been in any of her lessons, and Ginny didn't know where she was this morning so I-"

"Leave it to me." Professor McGonagall reassured him, and me, for that matter. She flourished her wand above my head and seconds later, I returned to my full height, completely human.

I felt embarrassed to find myself in the company of a sceptical McGonagall and a disbelieving Harry Potter. I guess running and tumbling around hadn't really done anything for my appearance, what with causing my hair to become even more unruly than before and my uniform ruffled. I attempted to gain what was left of any self respect I had by brushing down my skirt and jumper and tucking a loose strand of hair behind one ear.

"Miss Granger?" She said, obviously shocked that I was like this.

"Oh, hello Professor... Harry..." I concentrated on the floor, trying to stop myself looking any less presentable. I knew in my mind, that Harry was mentally laughing at me. I glanced at him; he smiled, relieved.

"May I ask..." McGonagall hesitated, still trying to understand. "Who or what did this to you?"

"It-" I started, before Harry cut across.

"I think it was Malfoy." He said. I gaped at him in utter surprise. "Well, it was, wasn't it? Hermione? Hermione!"

I didn't hear what else Harry had to say, as at that moment my head began to swim and I was enveloped in the darkness of deep reds and blues contained in my mind.


	6. Chapter Six

**Again, I'm sorry it's so late, but I've been so busy over Christmas and what with my January exams. Hope I do well! *fingers crossed* I thought some of this chapter would be a bit too long, as towards the end it features two parts (Slughorn and Fletcher) that are already in the Half-Blood Prince and there wouldn't be too much point in repeating every single line of it. So sorry if those two parts are a bit brief :)**

I didn't know what was happening for several hours as I slipped in and out of consciousness. I heard people whispering, unless it was a hallucination inside my head, every so often. They were talking about me, I was sure. I could tell for one moment that Harry and Professor McGonagall were muttering. Someone's voice - I supposed it was Harry - changed tone, angry... upset...

"But you don't believe me, do you? It must have something to do with Malfoy-"

"Potter, I'll speak to Professor Dumbledore," I heard McGonagall say, her strict tone stopping Harry midway through his angsty rage. "However, it's highly unlikely that a sixth-year would be able to perform an advanced animal transfiguration on another."

"It didn't work well, did it? Otherwise she wouldn't be..." He trailed off, and gave a shaky sigh.

I never thought Harry would be the sort to shout at a teacher. Apart from Umbridge or Snape, possibly. I soon dismissed this from my mind, before drifting off to sleep again.

* * *

I opened one eye, the other pressed against a soft pillow. Candlelight was glowing softly by my bedside as I realised where I was: the hospital wing. Lifting my head, I felt something soft brush across my cheek. It paused, and I blinked against the foggy feeling in my head. Harry was sitting next to me, his hand pulling back from my face. He looked worried._ As if he didn't have enough to worry about._

"'Morning." Harry smiled with relief, winking. "Nice sleep?"

"Was I out of it all night?" I asked, glancing out of the window opposite, the first few rays of misty sun in on the horizon.

"Yep. Like a light."

"Harry?" I felt his fingers knot between mine.

I looked down at our clasped hands. It felt normal, comfortable, to have him consoling me in the smallest way. He squeezed my hand and smiled again, sending a jumpy little sensation down my arm. I let go; I wanted to keep on holding his hand, yet it was not going to help with the confession I was about to make.

"Yes?" He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Don't make me do something stupid like that again, please Harry?"

"So somehow _I'm_ to blame for all this. As always." He laughed, exasperated. It brightened my mood slightly. "I couldn't believe it. It was you who made Ron freak out before Quidditch?"

"I might have played a small part in that, yes."

"You're lucky you convinced me or I would've thought I was going mad."

"Aren't you?" I teased, and let out an involuntary gasp at the person in the bed opposite me.

_Malfoy_.

I pulled Harry towards me, just to whisper in his ear, "Harry - you're going to hate me for this - but _he_ knows." I nodded my head in Malfoy's direction, and waited for Harry's mind to click into action. With his arms still around me, I wondered if he had even registered what I had said. _Honestly, boys could be so slow sometimes._

"_Malfoy_?" Harry whispered back, after moving his head to the left in a minute movement, watching said person. "What does he know?"

I moved out of our hug, and glanced around the ward. I cast Muffliato around us, and noticed Malfoy shift slightly, which to anyone else would have appeared to just be him moving in his sleep, but I wondered if he was trying to listen in. I couldn't risk him knowing anything more.

"About us. I made a deal with him that if he didn't let slip to Ron about the two of us then I wouldn't tell anyone else about him, even though we've already spoken to Dumbledore. But... I wish we'd told Dumbledore everything we knew. Malfoy must have only been knocked out for a few seconds and realised what we were doing."

"So you know what _he's_ been up to?"

"Not exactly, Harry. He was acting strange - almost jumpy - when I mentioned it to him, but whatever it is, it can't be good." I told him, gesturing to the bed I lay in. "Not after this."

"You mean Malfoy really _did_ do this to you?" Harry stood up when I nodded, and he gaped at me. "_I knew it_. You could have been killed!"

"Harry, I know you're only using me as an excuse to curse him into a thousand pieces, but don't. Please... not yet anyway."

"Fine." He looked as if he was barely holding back the urge to throttle Malfoy.

"What's he in here for?"

"From what Pansy's been gossiping about, he collapsed after Slytherin Quidditch practice." Harry rose an eyebrown in my direction; I wondered what he was trying to get at. "Well? I did say I wouldn't mind him being concussed."

"You did this!" I accused him, gobsmacked. Harry laughed.

"No! No, you did, remember? You said you knocked him out in the Room of Requirement. I'm pretty amazed he lasted so long without blacking out or something."

"Harry. I'm happy you care about me... but you can't stay here all day and night."

"I was worried-"

"I'll be out by the end of the day, I promise. Just remember to bring me my homework after lunch."

"Hermione..." I waited for his reply, but he just sighed with a smile. "Never mind."

Harry looked over his shoulder towards the other end of the ward. Voices murmured from a few yards away.

"... No, Poppy, I should have been more careful. I didn't expect her to be a rabbit. Whoever Transfigured her hadn't performed the spell correctly."

"Professor? I think she's awake."

"Thank Merlin for that. Potter, can you leave Madam Pomfrey to examine her?"

_Examine me? I'm not contagious!_ I thought, lying back down in bed._ Now after Pomfrey's sorted me out I'll only have stupid Draco Malfoy for company! _Harry looked as if he was about to talk back to her, but thought better of it. I began to wonder if he had a plan. Of course, with only Malfoy around, I would have a chance of actually finding out what he was doing.

"She should be out of the wing by the time you finish lessons."

"Thank you, Professor." Harry turned from McGonogall to give me one last smile. It almost cheered me up. "See you, Hermione."

I spent the next hour lying in bed, after drinking tonics and brews that Madam Pomfrey gave me. If only they were the sort of Mary Poppins, delicious sweet medicines I'd have preferred. Coughing and spluttering, after another dose of an overpowering licorice-flavoured potion, I was told that I could leave the wing. To be honest, I was grateful, but I doubted I would ever get rid of the licorice taste in my mouth. As I pulled back the curtain surrounding my bed, I narrowed my eyes at the person lying in the bed opposite me.

"Granger." He nodded, his trademark smirk leering at me.

I would have been in the right mind to slap his arrogant face there and then; I did have some restraint though.

"Malfoy."

"Still considering the deal?" The said boy stretched lazily in bed, but he didn't break eye contact at all. He clearly knew what he was on about, and was probably putting on a facade just so Pomfrey would think he was too ill to leave the wing.

"I'm fine with it."

"Good."

"Good."

We glared at each other for a few seconds, before I smiled at the thought that Malfoy didn't have a clue as to the reason why he was

"What are you in for anyway, Malfoy?"

"Well unlike some people I could mention I don't go around fainting on a regular basis."

"Really?" I smiled, crossing my arms, contented. "I heard you collapsed after Quidditch."

"There's a difference."

"Oh dear, has ickle Malfoy hit his head?" I don't know why I was being so patronising, but he deserved everything that came to him. His father deserved to be in Azkaban. I realised Draco was narrowing his eyes at me, in an odd way, as if contemplating something.

"For someone who's just been through a hell of a lot, you don't back down, do you?" He spat. I wasn't quite sure what to say to that... it didn't sound like his usual insult.

"Shut up Malfoy."

"Seriously."

"Malfoy... do you even know how you got that bump on your head?" I asked, and saw his cheeks turn ever so slightly pink. "You were beaten by a girl."

"What?" He sat bolt upright, glaring at me, running the recent chain of events through in his head. "You're lying."

"Is it too impossibly far-fetched for you to believe? That you were knocked out by a stupid little Mudblood?" I looked back at his surprised face."What?"

"You. Since when do you call yourself a Mudblood?"

"It's caught on a bit." I knew he wouldn't be happy that his insults weren't having an effect on me like they always did. Why should I care about my blood lineage, it's only Malfoy... one stupid, arrogant, bigheaded pillock. That's all that he was and all he ever would be. "Like you care."

I took my books from my bedside and reached for my bag when I realised Malfoy was still scowling at me. _Oh well, let him scowl. It's his problem._

I turned back, and for an instant all I could see was a flash of red hair, before being pulled into a rib-crushing hug.

"Hermione!"

"Ron?"

I glanced over his shoulder towards Harry. He wasn't happy - far from it - he looked as if he couldn't stand the sight of Ron hugging me.

"What happened? Harry only told me this morning."

"I didn't want you making a fuss about me in the middle of Transfiguration... well, too late for that." I smiled, covering for whatever reason Harry had not told Ron about my being in the hospital wing. "Ron, don't worry, I'm fine now. Just a bit of a headache. But that's probably just you."

Ron shifted his feet, and looked down for a moment, as if wondering what he should say. About to apologise for my teasing, I was interrupted by Ron's own apology.

"Hermione, I feel like I've been a git for the last couple of days... I'm... well, I'm sorry."

"No, I've been a pain too."

"Alright, you two, you've both been absolute pains. Let's get going." Harry touched my elbow, completely casual, but I knew there was something else concerning him.

There was more to this than just being jealous that Ron was being 'friendly' - or at least more so than before.

Ron was a brilliant friend, the best I could ever wish for, with his funny sayings, and the way he would be grinning on a Saturday morning, no homework, no worries, no stress. But there were the other times, when he would shout after a bad Quidditch practice, his bad moods, and using me for homework. Ron and I were too different. I thrived on working hard, and keeping focused, whereas he just wanted to pass his OWLs with As and Es. I suppose Ron and Harry both helped keep me grounded when I was too stressed. But Ron? How would we cope? What if we did get together? We would be arguing, perhaps more so than we were at the time being. What about Harry? Would he feel like an outsider, a third wheel?

Then I started to wonder again, what if there were different circumstances? What if Ron began feeling like the awkward spare part with Harry and I together? I couldn't keep lying. I felt terrible; I had to tell Ron, and soon. Could I just tell him outright that I had feelings for Harry?

"Lunch?" Ron interrupted my train of thought.

"You still think about food at a time like this?" I sighed, smiling. I guess this was another reason why I both loved and hated him sometimes.

"When _don't_ I think about food?"

We walked down to the Great Hall, distancing myself from Harry by walking on the other side of Ron. Ron would hardly bat an eyelid if there was a war going on, he was that clueless sometimes... I sighed again; he didn't deserve my mind's insults.

* * *

The following day, things were not going very well as we entered Hogsmeade.

"That bloody thief Mundungus..." Harry whispered furiously.

"Harry, I know it was your things he was taking, but you can't do anything about it now."

We had just bumped into the slimeball by the name of Mundungus Fletcher before coming to the Three Broomsticks, and I was grateful to be inside. Harry nearly choked on his Butterbeer, and I guessed that he had forgotten that Sirius's belongings were now his. I wished he hadn't drawn attention to us in the street, threatening him like that. As if he didn't draw enough attention.

I looked down at my Butterbeer, as we sat huddled around a table. Ron was in the bathroom, as he couldn't put up with watching Ginny and Dean together at the other side of the pub. What if that was Harry and I sitting there? What would he have done then?

"Harry... I was thinking..." I glanced around, lowering my voice. "_Do you think we should tell Ron?_"

"We'll have to eventually - didn't you want to keep 'us' to a minimum?" Harry quoted me, and I smiled at the fact he had actually bothered listening, unlike Ron would have.

"That's not going to work. Harry..." I looked back at my glass, and wondered if it there was any possibility it was alcoholic, meddling with my decisions, before continuing. "I don't want it to be a secret. Not really."

"So you think we should... date?"

Harry really could be shy sometimes. After Cho, he would have been unsure about girls wanting to be with him for his fame. And there were several I already knew about - for instance, Romilda Vane had been trying to decide how she should slip Harry a love potion that very morning.

"Well, I'm not saying no. And anyway, you wouldn't want Romilda spiking your drink would you?"

"When should we tell him then?" Harry pushed his Butterbeer away from him, probably after my remark about spiking drinks. I hoped he wasn't thinking I would ever do that.

"Can we wait a while? Just so I know how we'll do this." I answered, but soon began worrying about the consequences.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I... never mind."

Ron headed back to our table, clearly eager to leave, and drained his glass in one. I smiled at him, but he seemed in too much of a bad mood to acknowledge me. I had been talking to Slughorn and Harry about his dinner parties in Honeydukes and I couldn't believe how tactless I was to ignore Ron. Why did I have to say that they 'weren't that bad'?

"Are we heading back then?" He said, and pulled his maroon scarf closer around his neck.

Harry and I both stood up, and for a moment I was sure he winked at me. We were all walking out of the Three Broomsticks before I started to worry even more. What would the worst case scenario be? Would he completely lash out on the both of us, saying I only wanted Harry for his fame and glory, and that I thought Ron was second best? No, I didn't think of Ron as second best. I couldn't compare the two of them. Ron was a good friend, and that's how I hoped it could stay. Harry... I didn't know... but I had a feeling that it was much more than friendship.

I stopped in my tracks at the sound of a scream.

"Katie!"


	7. Chapter Seven

**I don't think this is one of my best chapters, but I'm glad I've actually got back to writing it. I think I'll be having a long break from fanfiction until Easter or summer, I have too much revision to do :( But I might update from time to time so watch this space! :D**

Katie Bell was floating, as if suspended like a puppet in mid-air, before letting out a high-pitched shriek of agony. I couldn't move. I wanted to help her, to stop her. She writhed above us before dropping to the ground, still trembling.

I couldn't think straight; for a second I didn't believe it was even happening. I rushed to Katie's side as she screamed again.

"Harry! Go get help!" I shouted over Katie's wails, restraining her hands beside her. Her eyes were wide with fear but it was as if she didn't know we were here. This was like nothing I had ever seen before. "Harry!"

I nodded towards the castle, and he set off like a greyhound, avoiding the icy puddles leading to the grounds.

"What's happened to her?" Ron knelt down beside me, holding Katie's shoulders strongly. She seemed to calm down for a few seconds... until she screamed again.

"I think she was cursed. I've read about it- Ron this is no laughing matter!" I snapped as he rolled his eyes, as if I couldn't notice. Did he always have to be inappropriate at such times? If it wasn't for my books, I probably wouldn't have realised what was wrong with Katie. "Don't go anywhere near that parcel-"

Ron stood up, peering over at the loose brown parcel that lay where Katie had been standing just moments beforehand, his hand reaching towards it.

"Why?" He flinched back.

"What do you think? That_ thing's_ cursed her!" I snapped, preoccupied by Katie.

"Sorry! I didn't know!" Ron gave me a scowl, almost worthy of Malfoy.

"Oh no, this is - this is all my fault." I noticed the girl's voice as she knelt beside me, holding Katie's shoulder as she calmed down, and had stopped moving. "Oh no..."

"...I'm sorry, look, Harry'll be back with a teacher soon. She'll be okay. You're Leanne, aren't you?" I turned to the girl beside Katie, who nodded, tears streaming down her face and I held her shoulder. "Do you know how she got that parcel?"

"That's what we were arguing about-"

"Ron! Hagrid's coming!" I heard a familiar yell across the street, but didn't look up, instead comforting Leanne's shoulder. The giant in question caught up with Harry, and his eyes widened at the chaotic scene before him.

"Stand aside, 'ermione, I'll take 'er up ter Pomfrey. What 'appened?" Hagrid asked, picking up Katie from the floor in his giant arms.

I stood up and realised I was shaking with shock, as was my voice. "Um... that parcel, it broke and... well I think she was cursed."

Harry walked over to the brown paper package and bent down.

"Harry!"

"I'm not stupid, look," He pulled his red and gold scarf from his neck and folded it around the necklace inside. It looked familiar, I was sure I'd seen it before... "Hermione... isn't this from-"

"-Borgin and Burkes?"

We glanced at each other for a moment, on the same wavelength. This was all adding up to one suspect: Malfoy.

* * *

"Well, you three?"

Professor McGonagall gave all of us her usual stern look, probably exasperated by the fact that we were always the people who ended up in these sort of situations. I noticed Ron about to voice his opinion, until Harry spoke first.

"Professor... I think I might know who it is - who cursed Katie Bell." Harry started, quite cautious at first.

"Who?"

"Draco Malfoy." It was my voice.

I said it... why did I say it? I knew Harry was thinking it, and even if Malfoy was innocent, Harry was dying to find a reason to blame Malfoy and at the sight of the necklace I almost believed it myself. But could a sixth year, no matter how much talent he had for his age - wait... did I just think Malfoy was _talented_? Fine, he was quite good at Transfiguration, even if it hadn't worked properly, but planning to curse - and I supposed kill - another person? He was not capable of that.

"Miss Granger?"

"Sorry," I flustered, avoiding Harry's smug face. "I mean..._ I_ don't think it's Malfoy, it's just Harry has a theory-"

Harry, receiving a scowl in the process, interrupted. "Professor, I'm pretty sure Malfoy was behind the cursed necklace. I... well, I saw him in Diagon Alley, we all did, and he was in Borgin and Burke's, where that necklace was."

I kept my eyes on the floor, feeling the warmth of my cheeks rise at every word Harry said. Why the hell did I even mention it? He was just going to go full steam ahead with this.

"And you're sure it was this necklace?" Professor McGonagall looked sceptical.

"Exactly, Harry. It could've been a completely different necklace... and Malfoy didn't actually buy it, did he?" I whispered to Harry, who just rose an eyebrow at me. There was no possibility that he would let this go.

"Borgin said it was reserved." He retorted.

"Well no one was going to believe your act, were they, Hermione?" Ron teased. Since when did Ron believe that Malfoy was a Death Eater all of a sudden?

McGonagall didn't seem impressed by our little spat, I noticed. She walked around the room, sending a wad of parchment flying towards us before landing upon her desk in a neat pile. Harry looked the most dazed by nearly being hit around the head out of the three of us.

"While your keep arguing about whether Mr Malfoy is the culprit in all of this, it might be worth telling you that he couldn't possibly have been in Hogsmeade today." She stated, opening the office door.

"Why?" Harry asked. I was surprised that Harry was talking back to her so defensively. I wouldn't dare speak like that to a teacher, let alone Professor McGonagall.

"Harry-"

"He was in a Transfiguration detention with me. Now, I'm going to check up on Katie Bell in the hospital wing," She ushered us out of the room, before turning back to Harry adding, "Mr Potter, maybe you should take your friends' advice in future."

And then it was my turn to look smug.

"So who do you think it was for?" He ignored my smile and returned to the subject in hand. I raised an eyebrow. "The necklace. Katie was taking it to the castle to give to someone."

"Of course... well, I suppose it was Dumbledore, or a teacher maybe? But it's a pretty stupid plan seeing as Filch is at the gates. Those Secrecy Sensors would have found the necklace in seconds." I told him.

"But Malfoy-"

That was it.

"If you keep coming up with these stupid theories, I swear- it's just like the boy who cried wolf!" I snapped in frustration.

"What?"

I forgot that Ron had no idea what I was on about with my muggle sayings. Harry and I considered each other.

"And what if I'm right?" Harry crossed his arms, but his eyes didn't look angry at all. They were almost... worried.

"Ron, can you save me a seat at lunch?" I said, before I stormed off.

"Blimey, she's worse than my mother." Ron muttered, stifling a snigger.

"I heard that!"

* * *

I hardly ever had arguments with Harry. They were very rare; I'd never been that annoyed by him. This was three times in a row, in just a fortnight. A record, even worse than my arguments with Ron. I wish he didn't jump to conclusions so quickly; it made me like him less and less at times. But he was my best friend - and a fat lot of good it was doing the both of us if we were avoiding each other like this.

"Harry."

"You still won't believe me."

"Harry, you have to understand that I can't make judgements just because I _hate_ somebody."

"Of course I hate Malfoy!" He said, in a shouted whisper, wide-eyed at me. "And it's not as if I don't have any evidence. He's up to something."

"But he didn't curse Katie." I sat down opposite him, not taking my eyes off of the Muggle Studies book in my lap. I licked my thumb and turned a page, not really concentrating on the words written upon it.

"Still sure about that?"

"Yes I am. He wasn't even in Hogsmeade, and Katie got the necklace from the girls' bathroom. And Pansy wasn't in Hogsmeade either so you can't say he's used her as an accomplice."

"Hermione..." He sighed. I looked up from my book for a moment, and folded down a corner. "I don't like arguing like this."

"Neither do I. You're not exactly helping though, are you?"

"I've got Quidditch practice in a bit, you coming?"

"I'm busy."

"Fine, don't come. Will you meet me in the dungeons at seven then?"

"Harry, if you're planning to steal ingredients from the Potions cupboard again like we did in second year, I swear-"

"I promise I won't, Hermione. Cross my heart." I was amazed when he actually did with his index finger. It seemed like a sweet gesture. I was just unsure whether he would keep that promise...

* * *

Something hit my leg. I frowned and sighed for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day and turned around.

"Surprise, surprise." I narrowed my eyes at the tall blond boy standing before me. It was only now, that I had seen him up close properly, that I thought he looked far paler than he usually did.

"Watch where you're going, Mudblood." He glanced down the deserted corridor. It was plainly obvious that he didn't want to be seen talking to me.

"I'm amazed you're up and about so quickly."

"Well, I am amazing." I was hoping his head wouldn't fit through the doorway at the rate he was going. That egotistic idiot.

"Don't flatter yourself, ferret." I scoffed, turning my back on him, though I could still see the wide smirk on his face, which was well worth slapping.

"I don't need to, half the Slytherin girls already do."

"Oh, and I was expecting all the girls to think you were something special. Pity."

"Well, it's pretty clear to you who is... hmm, I wonder if I just happen to talk to the Weasel tomorrow." I breathed slowly; I couldn't show Malfoy that I really did feel threatened by what he had said. He clearly knew that it would ruin everything between Ron, Harry and I, which would probably be quite entertaining to him. Did he truly know about anything to do with my relationship with Harry at all? Or was it just a form of blackmail - considering all I knew was that he may have seen us together in the Room of Requirement - to be used against me?

"And I Dumbledore." I bit back.

"Glad to see we're still agreed then."

"Look, I'm busy, so stop interfering." I told him as he rose an eyebrow, and it was clear to me that he thought it was suspicious that I was waiting in the same corridor as the Slytherin common room. "I'm waiting for Slughorn. I need to tell him Katie Bell was cursed so she won't be in his lessons next week."

His reaction worried me. Malfoy's eyes widened in surprise for a moment, before he regained his usual sneer. He stepped back, gave me another loathing look and stalked past.

"Potter." I heard him say as, true to fact, Harry was walking towards us in his Quidditch uniform.

"Malfoy."

"What was that all about?" Harry whispered, before I pulled him back around the corner.

"Harry, shhhh!" I peered around the corner, and watched Malfoy's blond head disappear out of view. "I'll explain later. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"You hungry?"

"If it wasn't for you I would have had dinner already." I muttered, ignoring my rumbling stomach for the time being.

"Follow me." He smiled as I rolled my eyes.

Taking my hand, sending what felt like thousands of little butterflies - or maybe Wrackspurts from what Luna kept saying - fluttering in my stomach. Why was it only now that I felt like this? I didn't want to think of Harry as a friend, not any more. I didn't realise where we were going until he stopped in front of a familiar painting: a fruit bowl. He tickled the pear and the portrait swung open. It was too dark to see properly. I was amazed that Harry could even make his way through the kitchens in the pitch black.

There was a faint light ahead. Candlelight. A blanket lay upon the floor, with four huge plates piled with food. I wanted to reprimand Harry for making the house-elves do all this extra work, but from the look he gave me, I could tell it was worth making the most of this.

"Look, I want to apologise. I'm- I'm sorry." He muttered, a little quieter than usual. He shifted his weight and looked at the floor.

"I understand-"

"'Mione, you don't. I've been so caught up with everything else, I'm not being fair to you." He gestured for me to sit with him. "You were shocked about Katie, you hate me going on and on about Malfoy. I just want to know that you trust me."

"I do trust you. Harry, now please don't turn smug again, but I believe you." I told him sincerely, looking him directly in the eyes. This was the first reasonable talk I'd been able to have with Harry for a while. He blinked, incredulous to what I had said.

"What?"

"I told Malfoy about Katie. I didn't want to believe it was true - he's only sixteen after all... but he seemed surprised, as if he was hiding something. I don't think he's a Death Eater-" It looked as if Harry was fighting the urge to roll his eyes at me. I pressed on, my teeth trembling as they bit my bottom lip. "Harry, he can't be a Death Eater; he's too young and he wouldn't know what he was doing. Why would V-Voldermort leave a _schoolboy_ to do his dirty work?"

"Hermione, calm down." He offered a steaming mug of hot chocolate, just as I liked it: marshmallows, cream, the works.

"You've got enough to worry about." I half-smiled. "You know, you're just a schoolboy too, but you have such a burden to carry... you need to concentrate on Voldemort and your private lessons."

"Hermione?" He brushed his hand over mine. I looked up again, but he shook his head, a rogueish smile playing on his lips. I didn't ask about it. "Never mind."

Lying down on the soft cushions, I sighed. "I thought I could stop you obsessing over the Half-Blood Prince, and I can't. It was pretty clear when you ran off to get the book back."

"I-"

"Harry, you have no idea how much I... care about you. You can't get hurt." Tears stung my eyes but I didn't want to cry. I wasn't sure what I felt for Harry at that moment. If he didn't blow hot and cold so often, and I also, then perhaps I would be able to think straight.

"Are you saying Malfoy's trying to hurt _me_?" Harry rose an eyebrow, his green eyes curious.

"No, Katie would have turned around and given you the necklace before then." I frowned, wondering who the target could have been. Katie was heading towards the castle, as were we. My mind clicked. "But it might've been for a teacher. Almost definitely. That or a student Katie knows."

"So we're on the same page?" Harry asked. My frown deepened, wanting him to explain further. "Dumbledore's the only person who Voldemort's ever been afraid of. Malfoy never thought Dumbledore was a good headmaster. He said he was a mad old fool. Now that his dad's in Azkaban, in theory, he would be the next Death Eater in the family."

I sat bolt upright, listening to every word. It was plausible. But someone like Malfoy being able to get rid of someone like Albus Dumbledore - it seemed too far-fetched. Wouldn't Dumbledore have already worked it out? I wondered if Harry had ever discussed it with him in their lessons. Maybe that was why Harry wanted me to tell Dumbledore about the Room of Requirement.

"Warn Dumbledore. Just in case. If he says it's nothing to worry about, take his word for it." I stated, hoping he wouldn't interrupt. He tried.

"But-"

"Harry, Albus Dumbledore is one of the wisest wizards of our time. I'm sure he would know if Malfoy was up to something."

"I've only mentioned it to him. But Hermione... he said himself that he's made mistakes in the past." He pointed out, but I pretended I wasn't listening, instead throwing a grape in his direction. He caught it between his teeth and smiled. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I smiled, before realising he was about to tickle me.

"Are you trying to annoy me?" I laughed, pushing his arms away, as he tried to kiss my neck. Why wasn't he being serious about this? "Listen, I'll keep track of what Malfoy's up to - I have more lessons with him than you do anyway."

"I've probably said this too many times, but you really are brilliant." His breath tickled my ear as he whispered. I inhaled the earthy smell of rain from his Quidditch jumper, a smile widening on my face. "Thank you, Hermione."

"Harry?" I asked as he rested his head on my shoulder, mirroring me. "Why did you kiss me?"

"I wanted to."

"No, I mean last week... when you got the Half-Blood Prince's book back."

"Oh... it's nothing..." His arms slackened.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" He snapped, before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sorry."

"Harry, have you been sleeping at all?" I moved closer towards him, observing his face. His eyes looked sore, his cheeks were pale. For a moment I thought there might have been a bug going round if both Malfoy and Harry didn't look well. But it was clear that the both of them were not sleeping. Harry inclined his head, misinterpreting what I was doing and pressed his lips gently against mine. He was trying to distract me from whatever he was hiding.

"It's got nothing to do with my dreams."

That was one of the few things Harry was terrible at: lying.

**That little review button will die from being unloved if you don't click it. CLICK IT!**


	8. Chapter Eight

**Sorry, again, for this being so late. I've hardly had time to write lately, but I hope to keep going with this for a few more months. And reviews may give me more motivation (hint hint) ;) Tell me what you think of this so far :D**

Every Saturday since, Harry and I would sneak off to the kitchens after he'd finished Quidditch practice, telling Ron that he was going to see Slughorn about something Potions-related and I was doing Prefect Duty in the dungeons.

I didn't ask about Harry's lack of sleep, and for a few weeks he seemed to be looking better, but I still never asked.

Potions classes were slightly more successful than usual. Harry had given me a few notes from his book, which I was first tentative about, not wanting to scrap the original methods. In Potions once, I was able to make a perfect Draught of the Living Death. I wondered if Harry had let me do well deliberately. We had barely argued during the previous weeks, which seemed to benefit Ron as well as the both of us. However, he didn't let me copy any more methods after that; I wasn't that surprised. He told Ron and I that Dumbledore wanted him to find out information from Slughorn, and that he needed all the help he could get in lessons to schmooze his way in.

Harry mentioned 'Horcruxes' to me. I wasn't sure what they were, and I couldn't find anything out in the library so I hoped he would be able to work it out from Slughorn himself.

I hoped.

* * *

I finished packing my things into my bag, after one lesson, before I heard Professor Slughorn calling Harry and I over.

"Miss Granger, Mr Potter, can you stay behind for a minute?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"I have arranged a little party for the Slug Club, and no, Harry, you can't get out of this one," He chuckled, smiling at Harry's slightly strained expression. "I made sure Hermione checked for a date where you didn't have any other commitments. The last Friday of term, spread the word."

Smiling innocently back at Harry, I cleaned my cauldron. Harry walked over to my seat and sighed deeply, a blunt look on his face.

"Did you have to?"

"Harry, this time we would be able to go together." I whispered, and Harry perked up slightly, his elbow bumping into mine surreptitiously. "Everyone else would think we were 'strictly friends'."

"I guess so." He flashed me a grin, before we headed towards the doorway to the Great Hall.

* * *

It was the fifth of December, two weeks before the end of term when Harry and I sneaked down once more to the kitchens. I realised that very few teachers came into the kitchens during the weekend, but as a precaution, we decided to head off later than usual, with the Invisibility Cloak.

"Harry, can't you tell me the truth?" I asked, after trying to figure out why Harry's wasn't sleeping, even though I swore I wouldn't... up until now.

"Look, I'd tell you if there was something wrong."

"Would you- AAAH!" I jumped as there was a loud cracking sound behind me. I landed on the floor, pushing Harry down with me in the process: I bet that was his plan after all. Blushing beetroot red, I shoved him off me as he started laughing. The source of the surprising sound was Dobby, wearing an array of odd clothes: a bright pink trilby hat, red and yellow waistcoat and a huge aubergine purple jumper that I realised was one of my own creations.

"Dobby!" I straightened my shirt out after the crumpled mess it had become, and pulled a face back at Harry.

"Sorry, Hermione Granger, miss! Dobby didn't mean to scare you!" He squeaked, almost tripping over the hem of his jumper.

"No problem Dobby, I think Harry had me right where he wanted me." I narrowed my eyes at him and mockingly crossed my arms, my bottom lip pushed out. Dobby seemed confused, and continued, tugging at Harry's hand too.

"Dobby came to warn you that Professor Slughorn is coming past the kitchens, with Master Draco, sir."

"What?" We glanced in shock at one another.

"Hermione, put this on." Harry passed me his Invisibility Cloak from his pocket hastily, before clearing the floor with a flick of his wand. "Just put it on!"

"Oh Merlin, I can't believe it! Draco snitched on us! How did he know?"

"It's not that difficult to believe, really." He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice, before turning his head quickly around to the portrait entrance. "Shhh, they might just be going somewhere else."

"Harry, get under the cloak too!" I grabbed his arm and dragged him underneath the cloak with me. Considering the cloak was a perfect size for Ron, Harry and I when we were eleven, gaining almost half a foot in height meant that my shoes were almost visible. A small smirk spread on Harry's lips as I tried to press closer to him, to hide myself against him. Curse him, and his Quidditch-player's physique! My hands lay upon his chest as he pulled a corner of the cloak to cover us completely.

"Dobby, can you keep a trail on Draco Malfoy for me?" He said, and Dobby squeaked at the disembodied voice before grinning in our direction.

"Of course, Harry Potter, sir."

"Harry! You shouldn't use house-elves as means to do your dirty work!" I hissed, and stood on his foot purposefully.

"No, miss, Dobby is perfectly willing to help Harry Potter."

"Oh..." I heard Harry stifle a snigger, before peering across the room again. "Very well."

"Shh, they're coming!" Dobby warned, before there was another faint _crack_ as he disappeared from view.

Dobby was right. Malfoy was at the door, glancing back and forth, passing the spot where Harry and I stood, barely breathing. Slughorn was standing beside him, walking slowly behind him. This was odd, very odd. I felt Harry step back slightly, silently pulling my arm so we were hidden in a small alcove. Fighting the urge to shiver from the strange coldness in the room, I watched as Malfoy opened a small cabinet I hadn't seen before, and pulled out a dark bottle. Harry touched my shoulder, trying to watch properly. From what I could see, Malfoy held a smaller bottle in his other hand, and seemed to be adding something to the drink. I glimpsed a small spark in the bottle that quickly extinguished, but not before I caught a smile on his face, illuminated by the fleeting light. He passed the bottle to Slughorn, who took it without questions. Alarm bells, if they hadn't started before, were definitely ringing in my head now.

"Harry, did he just..." My eyes were wide as I stuttered. "The-"

"The Imperius curse? Yeah, I think so."

"But he couldn't _possibly_-" I lit my wand, not wanting to light up the whole room due to the possibility Malfoy could return.

"Hermione, it's clear that this isn't impossible if Malfoy can put a teacher under an Unforgivable Curse, almost fully transfigure another student and plant a cursed necklace with Katie Bell. Do you believe me now?" I saw Harry out of the corner of my eye. He gave me a look of exasperation, his wand also held aloft as we made our way out of the kitchens. I nodded. "What about that drink?"

"You think it's poisoned? We'll have to swap it if it is, without getting noticed."

"_You_ could check." Harry nudged my elbow, a half-smile on his face. I turned to face him. How could he be acting so fine about everything at a time like this?

"As if I could go and walk up to Malfoy and ask _'Oi, Malfoy, you're not planning to poison anyone, by chance, are you?'_ Harry, he's not that stupid!"

"No, I meant you could check Slughorn's office-" Harry stopped short, and frowned at me. "You're defending him?"

"No!" I turned on my heel again, rolling my eyes as I did so. "I'm just saying he's not so bone idle that he wouldn't notice what we were up to."

Harry's hand grasped my own, before he broke into a run towards the nearest passageway.

"We're going to Dumbledore. Now."

I had to do this; I couldn't let Malfoy blackmail me into keeping this secret any longer, no matter what price I had to pay for it. The corridors were just as isolated as they usually were at this time, with most students in their common rooms. To stay on the safe side, Harry suggested we use the Cloak until we reached Dumbledore's office.

Preparing myself with a sigh, I followed Harry into the office.

"Professor?"

"Good evening, Harry..." Dumbledore sat behind his desk, writing what seemed to be a ten foot letter to the Ministry, and smiled. "and Hermione, of course. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Sir, we think-"

"-Harry, this is just obsurd-" I mumbled in his ear, but he kept on.

"-that Draco Malfoy is planning to poison someone."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, his eyes watching Harry with interest, before saying, "Harry, this is a very serious claim to make. I take it you saw him then?"

"Yes, sir, we were-"

"- we were in the kitchens, and I know we weren't supposed to go there, or even know about them, and I suppose you don't like the fact that I'm not setting a good example as a Prefect, but Harry's right." I rushed. In all this time, I hadn't realised how nervous I was about breaking the most basic of rules, and yet determined to break those that were the most important. Harry and Ron were definitely a bad influence on me.

"There's no worry, Miss Granger, as long as you weren't up to anything you shouldn't be." I felt my face redden as he surveyed me with those knowing eyes, and Harry secretly squeezing my hand in comfort certainly did not make my blushing lessen.

"Sir, it _is_ true." He stated.

"What happened?"

"We saw him coming in with Slughorn, and Slughorn didn't seem in his normal state of mind... " Harry glanced for a moment at me, his sharp green eyes concerned. "...we wondered if he could've been under the Imperius curse."

"Then he, Malfoy, walked over to get a bottle. It looked like some sort of wine or Firewhiskey maybe. He put something into it, and Slughorn didn't seem any the wiser and just took it with him." I continued, biting my lip hard.

The room fell silent for a moment as Dumbledore sat, clearly concerned about what we had told him. If he wouldn't take Harry's word for it, he definitely had to realise I was telling the truth. It would have appeared to anybody else as though Harry was just trying to get Malfoy into trouble, which on one hand was beneficial, but on the other, a sure fire reason for Malfoy to take it out on us when he found out.

"Very well, I'll speak to Horace in a few moments. Is there anything else you wish to ask me?" He bowed his head with a knowing glance at the both of us. It was as if he could see right through me.

"Sir, do you know when Katie Bell will come back?" I asked.

"It's hard to say unfortunately, she may be back in a few weeks, maybe a few months, but the point is she will get better." He turned towards Harry, who seemed shy also. "Harry?"

"Will I see you on Monday, Professor?"

"Unfortunately I will be away again, so we will have to postpone it until the week afterwards." He looked at the two of us with an odd smile on his face, as if he wanted to say something, but thought it best not to. I didn't question it further.

Harry nodded in response and shouldered his bag. "Thank you, sir."

We walked outside in silence, and I felt a warm, comforting hand on my shoulder. I turned my head.

"Harry-"

"Thank you."

His arm twisted around mine, our hands entwined, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you. Ever since Sirius..." I trailed off; I couldn't say anything about it if Harry wasn't okay about discussing Sirius's death. It was too awful for me too.

"It's fine. You can talk about it if you want to, I don't mind."

"Harry, of course you mind, he was your godfather. It's just since you made the mistake of thinking Sirius was at the Ministry when he wasn't... sometimes I don't want to believe you. It frightens me how you know all these things from your dreams."

"Hermione." He sighed, a sadness in his eyes. "I understand. I've made so many mistakes before, I wouldn't put it past you to feel like that."

I was unsure about what to say next. It felt too difficult to talk about something as sensitive as Sirius Black's death, and I knew there was some truth in what I said about Harry being uncomfortable about it. We walked up a narrow passageway in silence, until Harry squeezed my hand.

"We've put this off long enough, Harry... what about Ron?" I asked softly as we stepped out onto an empty seventh floor corridor. "I can't lie to him any more, but I'd hate to hurt him."

"Me too. It's awful. He never told me he liked you though... then again, he wouldn't admit it if he did. Ron... maybe he's too shy or too proud-"

"Proud?" By instinct, I frowned. A Slytherin, yes - they were all proud pompous twats - but Ron? Why did Harry say that? I let go of his hand.

"Hermione, don't try to make an argument out of this. You're taking this the wrong way. You know that's not how_ I_ think of you... I-"

Harry was cut off by a loud yell from the other end of the corridor. A hand was waving at us, belonging to Ronald Weasley. _Oh Merlin._ Why was it that whenever I saw Ron I just couldn't go through with it - I could just tell him, blurt it out - no, it was too hard. What sort of Gryffindor was I if I couldn't even pluck up the courage to tell him the truth now?

"Oi, you two! Where've you been?"

"I told you, I've finished my duty." I sighed, wanting to ask what Harry was about to tell me. Ron had the worst timing ever. The next thing he said caught me short.

"How come Romilda said you weren't there?"

"What?" My voice faltered. Harry's eyes shot up to meet mine, wide and worried.

"I asked her if she knew when you were coming back from duty, she'd been patrolling near Filch's office-"

"Oh, I was held up by Slughorn, he asked for some help sorting Potions equipment. I met Harry later on so we walked back together."

I slipped past him with a quick smile and mumbling something about finishing an essay back in the common room. Ten minutes later, however, Ron cornered me again.

"Hermione! You amazing girl!" His friendly hand squeezed my shoulder, and I realised something was up. He wouldn't usually just compliment me unless he wanted something. "Wouldn't happen to know anything about our Charms homework, would you?" He suggested, his grin becoming more pleading.

"Ronald!" I warned him, but couldn't help a smile creeping upon my face, as he waved a piece of parchment in front of me as if it would encourage me to do it. "If you think you can work your Weasley charm on me like that you've got another thing coming!"

"Please, just one little piece..."

"You owe me. Big time." I patted his arm away and sat down in my usual armchair. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy the times that Ron was happy, in fact, it was fantastic to just have a fun relaxing day where Ron wasn't so wound up.

"Of course I do."

A thought hit me. "So if I do this tiny bit of homework for you, you won't ever have a go at me?"

"I promise." He smiled with a wink.

"Fine then." Dipping my quill into the spare inkwell, I started writing, feeling as though this was one of the best deals I had ever made with Ron. I knew if I ever did tell Ron about Harry and I, he would go back on his word and lash out at us... and I would probably deserve it, for telling him the truth. Yet I couldn't live a lie like this towards him. I didn't know how I could stop without hurting him, and myself, in the process. Who knows, this could ruin our whole friendship. Harry, Ron and I, the golden trio.

"Are you telling him?" I nudged along the couch, and whispered to Harry as he finished his own essay, the feather of his quill flitting past his cheek. He glanced up.

"I want to. I'm his best mate, and I'm not making matters any better by just waiting around for the right time. It's horrible, feeling like this." He sat back, and massaged the back of his neck where his unruly hair flicked out a little. "Are you?"

"We should tell him together... we have to."

"I know. We should do it before Christmas, before Malfoy gets wind of what we've done. I'd hate for him to tell Ron."

"What're you two on about?" Speak of the devil, said person sat in the space between us, with a bag of Every Flavour Beans. _Eurgh._

"Nothing important." I looked away from them both, and stood up. "Well, seeing as I've done all _my_ homework - and your notes, _Ronald_ - I'm going to bed."

It was as though I couldn't sleep at all, my eyes open against my will. I yearned to close them, to just lose myself in sleep and forget the confusion and worry for a few moments. I had to tell Ron, and if I didn't soon enough Malfoy would. It was inevitable now, as if I just thought it was a petty threat of his as always. Draco Mafloy would not hesitate to blow this up in our faces if he had the chance.


	9. Chapter Nine

**My laptop's been messing up (yet again) but it should be up and running again soon. Luckily I had most of this saved in my DM. :) I think I may be on hiatus until June as well. I have so many final exams to revise for, but I'll find time to catch up with this eventually.**

**Thanks for all the reviews! Only 8 chapters and over 50 reviews :D Dumbledore would be proud!**

* * *

I woke up on Sunday morning with a feeling of dread that somehow Ron could have found out about Harry and I. Then again, the two of them would be too busy fretting over the first Quidditch match of the year this afternoon. The sleet and rain outside didn't perk up my mood either. Dressing in Gryffindor colours, I hoped Ron would be able to fire up his confidence for the game. However, when I found Ron huddled over his toast in the Great Hall, I knew something was up. Ron never abandoned his food.

"Ron, you'll be fine. There's nothing to worry about." I told him, holding his shoulder. He shook it off and gave me a harsh look.

"And who said there was?" He snapped back, turning away from me.

"Sorry. You don't have to snap at me."

"Hermione's right, Ron." Harry, being the supposed great friend that he was, assured him. "We will definitely beat Slytherin, without a doubt. You were great last practice, so you won't mess up."

"Look, thanks for the pep talk and everything, but if we lose, I'm resigning." Ron sat back on the bench, eyeing his fried egg with disgust. He really was not acting himself.

"That won't happen. You need to eat. Here, have a drink." A flash of gold appeared in Harry's hand: Felix Felicis. Harry passed the goblet across to Ron and I knew - oh Merlin, I knew - that Harry couldn't possibly be trying to do this.

"Ron, don't!" I dragged the cup away from Ron's mouth, who frowned at me again. "Harry, _how dare you_?"

"What?" They both retorted.

"He just put something in your juice."

"I did no such thing!" Harry glanced at me with a scowl, and I then noticed the faintest wink. I turned back to Ron, wondering what on earth Harry thought this would be good for.

"Ron, do not drink that." I warned him. Ignoring me, picked up the drink again. I whispered over the table to Harry. "I swear Harry, you could get suspended-"

"Hermione, just shut up for once." He swallowed the glass in one. I couldn't have despised him more than I did in that moment. Did Harry really have such little faith in Ron's Keeping skills?

"Fine. Be that way."

I slammed my fork back onto the table, stood up and stormed out of the Great Hall. Harry had no right to slip Ron that Felix Felicis; he was surely going to be discovered soon enough without my meddling. I thought about telling Madam Hooch or McGonogall for a moment, but I would only be make things worse for myself. Ron would never forgive me for not letting them try to win against Slytherin, and Harry would take it far worse.

I heard a snigger, one I was sure belonged to a certain smug blond Slytherin. I didn't want to stay around to listen to his insults any longer.

"Poor, poor Mudblood."

"Shove off, Malfoy." I stopped, and glanced back. There was no harm in wanting Gryffindor to lose for once, clearly, if they were going to treat me as though I wasn't part of the house. "Actually... good luck. Thrash Gryffindor for me, why don't you?"

The oddest look appeared on his face, halfway between confusion and the smugness of his signature smirk. I walked off without another word.

I sat by the lake, not caring about the icy wind that was chilling me to the bone. Pulling my coat closer around my body, I tried to understand why on earth I had just told Malfoy, someone I knew was definitely up to something, be it under Voldemort's orders or not, to beat Gryffindor. Some house spirit I was promoting. Opening my Ancient Runes textbook, I skimmed its pages, barely taking a word - or rune - of it in. It was hopeless to try and concentrate in this mood. I slammed it shut after a few minutes and looked up to find Ginny walking over to meet me.

"Hi, Hermione."

"Hey Gin. You'd best be getting ready for the game." I wanted to be alone, to think, to relax. But this was Ginny Weasley; the girl who was stubborn enough to decide to go to the Ministry last summer despite our forewarnings, who stayed with me while I was recovering in the hospital wing, who wanted to cheer me up when I was down right now. I realised this would be one of the rare times when she would not be able to do that.

"Are you okay?"

"Not really. Your brother is-"

"-an absolute dunderhead. Yeah I know, I've had to put up with it for nearly sixteen years."

"How are you and Dean?" Talking about my troubles would be useless, I'd just become even more frustrated.

"Brilliant." She smiled charmingly, sitting herself down in a small crook of the tree beside mine. "What about you? I haven't seen you with anyone lately... I'd have thought you'd be deciding who you were taking to Slughorn's Christmas party by now."

"Oh, I don't know." My hands cupped my elbows, trying to keep warm. My breath fogged up the air as I spoke. "I'm not going with Ron after what happened just now."

"I heard."

"I suppose there's always Harry. We could go as friends." I felt my cheeks burn from this utter lie. Ginny would see right through me - yes, she had that slight turn at the side of her mouth, halfway between a smirk and a smile. "What?"

"You don't... have any feelings for Harry do you?" She asked quizzically, raising her eyebrows, as if wondering whether I thought she was barking mad or not. Of course, she was spot on.

"Why do you ask?"

"I've just noticed lately. He seems to look at you differently."

"Do you still like him?"

"Not really. I can't believe I was such an idiot when I started Hogwarts." She laughed, blushing in such a Weasley-esque way I had to laugh too. "I was head over heels like some sort of dippy little fangirl. Yes I like him... but he's just a great friend, like a big brother to me now. Besides, I have Dean, and I couldn't ask for anyone better."

"Aw, that's sweet."

"Hermione, you still didn't answer my question." She teased, poking my elbow. I pretended I had no idea what she was on about. "You. Harry. With an 'and' in the middle."

"Not as far as I know." I busied myself with my Runes book again. My stomach began to tie itself into knots, though that was biologically impossible. Ginny was the sort of person who could tell I was lying by the look in my eyes. She placed her hand over the page, the words becoming barely legible.

"Don't be vague." She tried to pull the book from my lap.

I yanked it back forcefully before saying, "Don't say anything to Ron then." My hand shot to cover my mouth when I realised what I told her. _Me and my stupid big mouth._

"So you do!" A knowing grin spread across her face.

"I never said that. Neither did I deny it." I felt relieved; I had told no-one in case word spread to Ron, yet I was sure I could trust Ginny to keep this secret for a while.

"I promise, I won't breathe a word to anybody. Don't you think you should tell him at some point?"

"I have to. Just not now."

"I'm not sure about Ron." She said. I turned my head at her words, listening to her opinion intently. "He blows hot and cold around you sometimes. I don't know if he likes you in that way."

"Do you think he'd be mad if I told him?"

"I think so," She squeezed my shoulder in comfort. "But he'll have to deal with it, won't he?"

"You make it sound so easy." I sighed, feeling much calmer now that my feelings for Harry were now out in the open.

"You didn't hear our argument a few nights ago." She cringed at the thought, pulling her iconic titian hair back into a ponytail. "He caught me kissing Dean in secret, and nearly bit my head off. I told him he was being an immature little child who hadn't kissed a girl properly before and he- god, he's going to freak out about you."

"Thanks for the warning though."

"Anytime." She glanced across the lake as someone shouted at us, most likely Dean. She waved back and stood up. "Just... I'd save telling him for after Christmas. Otherwise it'll be hell during the holidays."

"Good luck."

"Thanks, I don't know if we're going to play that well today - wow, I didn't realise it would be so sunny today. Maybe our luck's changing."

"_Harry_." I cursed under my breath. I realised this was all part of his plan to make this the best Quidditch match for Ron and the team. Eurgh, he didn't have to cheat. If he was found out, Merlin help me...

"I'll see you at the game."

It was definitely one of the best games Ron had ever played. He saved every single attempted goal, some where he was just clinging to the Quaffle with his fingertips. He was lucky, almost impossibly lucky. I glanced up at the towers of the pitch to see Harry circling the area, and took this as a tactic he used to find the Snitch. They were winning eighty-nil by the time both Malfoy and Harry had located the Snitch, diving at the same time. Something was odd, I realised, as they rocketed towards the ground. The Slytherin seeker wasn't Malfoy. Why wasn't he playing?

I tried not to jump to conclusions so quickly, that Malfoy would be skipping one of the most important matches of the year to do whatever he was doing in the Room of Requirement. Moving along the stands, I reached the stairwell, watching Harry with his arm outstretched towards the Snitch. I didn't need to watch any further to know how the game would finish: the shouts and cheers from the Gryffindor stands declared it.

I was already inside the castle by the time the Quidditch team stormed the Entrance Hall. Taking a quick left turn down a narrow corridor, I ran along secret passageways before reaching the seventh floor. The door was not there, not that I really expected it to be. I closed my eyes, focusing. _I need to find the place where Malfoy is working. _Apprehensively, I opened one eye. Still no door. _I need to know what Malfoy is doing inside this room. _I sighed. Even after several more attempts, there was no chance that I would get into the Room. I supposed that Malfoy had wanted it to be undetectable by other people. It was no use trying any more.

Opening the portrait to the Common Room I was overwhelmed by the loud yells and cheers inside. I scanned the room for any sign of Harry, but something else caught my eye. Ron's lips were glued to Lavender's as if there was no tomorrow. What was he doing with someone like her? She only liked him now because he was the star of the show in the match.

"Ron, where's Harry?" I asked, as soon as the two of them had come up for air from their snogging session.

"Oh piss off, Hermione." There was a subtle hint of Firewhiskey coming from his breath as he barged my arm away roughly. "Just because I'm with Lavender doesn't mean you need to interfere and snap at me all the time. Live a little, Hermione."

"Interfere? Excuse me?"

That was it. He was always saying 'Live a little, Hermione' this or 'Get off my back' that: in fact, it felt as if he hardly spoke to me as a friend anymore, as if I was just _there_.

"Come on, Lav." He looped his arm through hers as she dragged him back off into their corner.

_How dare he?_ He was supposed to be my friend. I was not jealous, not in the slightest. But snogging girls' faces off to try to make me envious was just a step too far. I had the right mind to tell him there and then that he only won because of that Felix Felicis. He didn't have to be so smarmy about it. I wished I could have told him about Harry and I and see it just blow up in his face... no, I couldn't do that. I furiously rubbed my eyes to halt my tears.

I walked along until I reached an old empty classroom, some of the desks pushed to one side. I crawled upon one, my arms tucked around my legs. It was quiet and peaceful, a pleasant change from the boystrous common room. I could think clearly. I conjured a charm, six golden birds circling around in the air above me, calmly whistling to one another. It would have been comical, as though I was one of those slapstick cartoons... but there was nothing funny about this. They still seemed to have a peaceful effect on me. Their fluttering reminding me of golden Snitches... of Harry.

As if on cue, the said person slowly eased open the door.

"Evening, Harry." I mumbled under the wool of my jumper.

"I heard what Ron said..." He trailed off and sat beside me on the desk, placing his hand over my own.

"It's okay." I blinked rapidly. "He's got _Lav-Lav_ now. I just couldn't stand that smug little face of his. He's been acting like that all day. _No thanks to you_."

"Hermione." He started. I rolled my eyes, waiting for an explanation. He took the bottle of Felix Felicis out of his jeans pocket, still completely full to the brim of the golden liquid. "Look, I didn't put it in. I wanted it to look like that so Ron would feel better during the game. I swear, I was actually worried you would tell McGonagall."

"You think I would stoop that low?" I questioned him, crossing my arms. He pressed his forehead against mine, before tucking a loose curl behind my ear. "I'm sorry I doubted you, Harry."

"Me too." His thumbs brushed against my cheeks, gently catching the last few tears that trailed down them. I looked up into his eyes again. Curse those green eyes. That smile. That irritatingly cute tuft of dark hair covering his scar. What was he doing to me?

His face dropped.

"Ooh, looks like this room is occupied." A shrill, giggly voice said. _Merlin, no. No, not now-_

"What the HELL are you doing?" Another voice bellowed. I closed my eyes, wishing I wasn't there at the moment. Why didn't I lock the door or go to the Room of Requirement? I was far more scared than I thought I'd ever been before by Ron's tone.

"Ron." Harry and I gasped.

"How long has this been going on?" He stepped properly inside the room, taking in the distance between Harry and I, the way it must have appeared to him. This was too awful, I never wanted him to find out this way. "How long?"

"Come on, you're being stupid-" Harry started, and I immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say.

"Oh really?" I noticed Ron's hand flex instinctively for his wand.

"Ron, please..."

"So he's been trying it on with you?" He shouted, spitting out every word with venom and disgust. He wanted to hurt me... just as I had hurt him, not intentionally. He was a hypocrite, a filthy hypocrite. But I was too, wasn't I?

"Ron! I do not let someone _try_ _it on_ with me!" I tried to keep my voice steady, yet I strained to make any sense at all. "You're being unreasonable-"

"_Me_? Sorry, I didn't think it was reasonable for your best friends to go off sucking face with each other."

"We just-" Harry stepped forwards, barring Ron and I from yelling at each other any further.

"No wonder you've been wandering of without me! Harry, you knew I liked her!"

"Well if you at least showed it to her, and stopped being such a git all the time-" Harry shouted back, taking out his wand. Ron scoffed. "You barely treat her like a friend, let alone anything more. What did you expect?"

"Harry, don't. He's not worth it." I whispered, pulling his hand down.

"You clearly take your pick of Quidditch players, don't you, Hermione?" He bit back at me. His eyes narrowed, full of rage that I had caused. I couldn't stand it. "Krum. Harry Potter, the Chosen One."

"Get. Out. Now." My hand was trembling terribly, but fighting to keep myself determined, I raised my wand. "Now!"

Golden flecks flashed past my head, their direction veering towards Ron. He dodged them, all six of them hammering the door. He gave me one more glare before slamming the door with all his might.

"Hermione."

Harry spoke weakly, probably just as guilty and upset about this fall out as I was.

"You knew?" I couldn't look at him. Harry said he never thought Ron saw me as more than a friend... he wouldn't lie, would he? This was Harry Potter, my... I wasn't quite sure what he was to me anymore. He was my best friend, my confidant - as I was to him - but what could I call him now? Why else would I be willing to hurt Ron unless it was for someone I cared more about? It was true, I cared about Harry so much, perhaps too much at times. Did I love him? I'd never felt this way before... certainly not towards Ron or Viktor. Not in the same way.

There were different kinds of love, I knew. I loved Ron, or at least I had before _this, _but only in a way a brother would tease and annoy his sister. Ron didn't usually treat me any differently as he would Ginny - yes, he was overprotective, but that was just how he was, I couldn't change that. Harry... this was the first time I was thinking too much and still could not come up with an answer.

"I didn't. He never told me he liked you in that way. Trust me, I would have told you otherwise, I swear."

I trusted him.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Sorry this is a little behind time... but I now have a beta! Twisted Raver has been a great help with this chapter. Oceanwind, I'd love to thank you as well, for giving me tips and advice. And thanks to everybody who has stuck with this fanfic so far! I can't believe I started this over a year ago, and that some of you are still reading :)**

The festivities in the Common Room still went on late into the night - apparently a few seventh years were able to sneak some Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' fireworks, but I knew it would just be a bit of harmless fun for once. The whole team, save for Ron, deserved to be happy that they had won the match.

"He won't tell everyone straight away," said Harry, squeezing my shoulder gently. I noticed him glance in Ron's direction, whose tongue was currently preoccupied. _Urgh_, I couldn't stand his attitude at the moment.

"No, of course not. He'll probably spread some sort of sick rumour about us."

Harry's eyes snapped back to me. I was only giving him my opinion, no matter how harsh even _I_ knew it was.

"Hermione? Do you really think he would do that?"

"He _could_ do that. It's just a matter of choice if he actually does," I decided, curling my feet underneath me on the couch, a dull pain in my head. It felt as though it had moved its way from my chest with extreme difficulty. I really started to feel ill. "Harry, you should be happy... well, sort of. If it wasn't for you, Gryffindor wouldn't have won the game. The Seeker's aim is basically to catch the Snitch and win, isn't it? Quidditch isn't that fair a game, don't you think?"

"Hermione..." he started. I listened intently and raised my head, still massaging my temple. "You're doing that thing."

"What thing?"

"That thing where you start to talk and babble a lot, to keep your mind off of something else," I shifted in my seat as he said it. His hand reached for mine, the tangle of knots throughout my chest somewhat settled as his thumb brushed over it therapeutically. "I can see it in your eyes."

"Oddly enough, I'm not in a particularly _festive_ mood at the moment," I made an obvious eye-rolling gesture towards the area that Ron and Lavender were currently occupying. "I think I might head off to bed."

In a way, I hated to leave him there in the common room where there may have been a chance that Ron could start something up, but Harry was above and beyond able to take care of himself. I paused as I stood up, our fingers still linked.

"Good night," he whispered gently, the warm glow now simmering in my chest as he loosened his grip from my hand.

"You too, Harry."

I was the first to bed, save for a few students in the lower years as I made my way to the dormitory. I despised myself for what I had done: Ron had distanced himself from both of us out of anger and hurt. In a way, I should have known that this would cause the relationship between Harry and me to be awkward for a while, but honestly, I believed that we would get through it. My mind fluttered from comforting dreams to mysterious nightmares, some of which caused me to become scared for no apparent reason.

Something woke me up in the early hours of the morning.

"—and you wouldn't believe what a slut she was, her hands were all over—" A familiarly annoying voice muttered somewhere to my left. There was only one thing she would think worth gossiping about besides herself at this moment. The hangings around my bed pinned themselves back with a flick of my wand.

"Excuse me?" I growled, my blood boiling at the thought that she was implying—in fact, she was stating—that I was _that_ sort of girl.

"Don't you need some beauty sleep, Granger?" Lavender Brown tossed her hair back over her shoulder with a smirk, an action worthy of a Slytherin.

"Just think about what you're saying behind my back, because I think it applies to you more fittingly," I bit back, waiting for her to piece together what I just said. I wasn't usually the sort to make snide comments to other girls, especially to someone who only a few months ago I would have considered a good friend.

"How dare you?" Lavender shrieked, her shrill voice only increasing the pain in my head.

"I don't see why you're having a go at me really, now that you have your little 'Won-Won' all to yourself," I continued. Lavender stomped off away to the bathroom, sending me a scowl as she opened the door. "There's never been anything stopping you, and certainly not me."

Flashing a sarcastic smile towards her, I was sure that the moment she returned, she would make even ruder remarks, so I started pulling the curtains across when Parvati's face appeared, her eyes apologetic.

"Hermione," she gave a weak smile, hoping it would make up for her friend's behaviour.

"Sorry Parvati, but I would really like to get some sleep. I _clearly_ need it."

"I'm sorry about what Lavender said," she whispered. I paused again as I untied the other curtain. Parvati hardly needed to apologise for her friend's actions. If anything, Lavender should have been saying sorry herself. Some Gryffindor that Miss _Tarty_ Brown was. "I think she was just jealous that Ron quite liked you. Can I just ask you something?"

"Go ahead," I allowed her, looked her square in the eyes. I enjoyed the fact that Parvati was less extreme than Lavender, in the sense that she liked to talk, but didn't gossip until dawn about everything she heard. Sometimes it was nice to be able to just have a decent talk to her, without the incessant gasps and squeals that she used to give when she was younger.

"Is it true you and Harry are together?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. We have been for weeks." I had most definitely let the Kneazle out of the bag now - there was no reason not to anymore. Parvati's face lit up at this news. Glancing towards the bathroom door, she lowered her voice.

"Oooh, you'll have to... _tell me in the morning_."

* * *

The next few days were tense, to say the least. The atmosphere could be sliced with a spoon for all I knew. I couldn't bear to be in the same class as Ron for more than a minute. I should have been happy that Harry and I could be open to each other now that Ron knew... I just wish it hadn't happened_ that_ way. He always left the room as soon as lessons had finished, as though he couldn't stand seeing us again. This was far worse than any detention - it was the worst punishment to lose my friend through every fault of my own. He didn't deserve this... he didn't deserve to be the friend left on the sidelines, yet, this was how he was behaving, as if he wanted to.

I tried to build up an immunity to Ron's demeanour, ignoring his dark looks and mocking whispers he made with Lavender. I realised Harry was able to deal with this breaking of friendship far better than I was.

Potions was an odd lesson. This was in the sense that Slughorn did not look as if he had been Imperiused at all. It was still strange that he was behaving normally.

"Ron..." Harry stood up, grabbing his satchel as Ron and Lavender strutted out of the Potions classroom. I held the leather strap, restraining him.

"Harry, don't bother," I told him, still flicking through my Potions book, trying to alter, from memory a certain brew that Harry once told me needed thirteen stirs instead ten. I wasn't using him for that, far from it, he was simply offering me help and I was grateful enough to take it.

"He's going to be like this for the rest of the year. I have to make it up to him."

"And how's that going to work exactly?" I gave him an intrigued look. Whatever plan he had, if at all, I prayed that it wasn't crazy.

"Ginny and the other Weasleys still want me at the Burrow over Christmas," he explained, with a hopeful look clear on his face. "Maybe we'll be able to patch things up."

"If I hear in any letters that you're at each other's throats then Merlin help me. I can't get a word out of him," I smiled. "It's great to see you're actually trying though."

Harry cuddled my waist, the same glow burning in my chest as it had been doing for the last few days. Wishing me goodbye, he dashed off after Ron. I prayed that neither of them would end up looking as though they had eaten a dozen Nosebleed Nougats.

Walking to the Great Hall, a familiarly tall red-headed fifth year ran into view. Biting my lip, I realised I hadn't kept the promise I made to her. She was going to have so much fighting and scowling to deal with over the next few weeks.

"I'm sorry, Gin."

Ginny looked puzzled, as though she was wondering for a moment what I was going on about until she let out a small grimace as she said, "In a way he deserved it, but yes, Christmas is definitely going to be a hectic time. No worries though. It might entertain me."

"I'll be sure to send you a letter when I get home. Please tell me if anything improves between Harry and Ron over the holidays."

"Of course, they're best mates — I'm sure they'll forgive each other somehow," She assured me, giving me a hug. Did everyone really think that I was taking the falling out between Ron and I badly? Sure, I knew we were both too stubborn and angry to admit it, but I did miss him as a friend. "See you at Slughorn's party tonight?"

It was great to actually have Ginny's creative eye at this point. I still had little hope of deciding what to wear. I left my hair quite loose, a few curls pinned back with a gold ribbon. Why was it that I could make decisions about almost everything, except a dress?

Finally, after much encouragement from Ginny, I chose a rose pink chiffon dress, which I first thought was a little low-cut, but Ginny persuaded me otherwise. Harry was staring at me as soon as I walked down the dormitory stairs.

"Well... Hermione..." he breathed. I blushed, my hair covering my ever so crimson cheeks as I fastened my shoe. "You look stunning."

I never realised why I didn't notice Harry properly before at the Yule Ball, his waistcoat was the same dazzling emerald as his eyes, the jacket tailored to perfection. It defined his arms and torso, clearly achieved by incessant Quidditch practice every week.

"I could say the same about you, Harry," I replied, gaining his full attention again as I wondered whether his gaze was lowering to my chest area.

It was strange that I was behaving so differently - why was I nervous now, with my hand tucked around Harry's arm, when I was absolutely fine and casual when we were simply close friends?

Professor Slughorn had clearly gone all out with the celebrations tonight. Mistletoe was hung from the ceiling, miniature reindeer flew around people's heads and a magnificent Christmas tree, decorated in all the house colours stood in the middle of the room.

"Harry m'boy, glad you could make it! Hermione too, here together I presume?" Slughorn called and waved over a waiter, who poured out generous flutes of sparkling Butterbeer for us.

"Yes we are."

"...she reminds me of your mother that girl - smart enough to fill a thousand books, good-natured..." Slughorn lowered his voice. I flushed at his compliment, clearly meant for Harry's ears only, but I couldn't exactly help that I was an exceptional listener.

"I'm sure that's an understatement, Professor-" Harry winked at me as he said it, causing me to turn beetroot red. Since when was he so suave—oh of course, that suit...

Their conversation was cut off by Filch, the caretaker, dragging none other than Draco Malfoy across the room to Slughorn.

"I found this student, wandering the corridors out of hours—he claims he was invited—"

"Fine, I was gate crashing! Happy?" Malfoy snapped, tearing his cloak away from Filch's grasp, a scowl stuck upon his face. Snape appeared at Malfoy's side. Yet something was different - they were both frowning at each other.

"Oh come on, it's Christmas, you may as well let him stay," Slughorn smiled jovially at them both, batting Filch away with his hand as he took another glug from his glass of Firewhiskey.

Snape pointed towards the door, which Malfoy started walking towards and announced harshly, "As _I_ am his head of house, I have the choice as to whether he should be punished or not."

Harry's eyes and my own locked for a moment, clearly perplexed about how Snape and Malfoy were behaving. Slughorn and Harry started their conversation again, but I wasn't really listening - I thought Slughorn had probably had a glass of Firewhiskey too many.

That was when I realised Rita Skeeter was walking in my direction.

"Hermione Granger! What a surprise!" her sickly sweet voice trilled above the others. I could tell she most likely had a Quick-Quotes Quill behind her back so tried to turn away. I wasn't quick enough. "So, I hear that you and Harry are actually an item?"

She raised an eyebrow, her scarlet mouth curling at the side.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I mirrored her expression, feeling a lot more confident than I would have without the heels I was wearing.

"I'm only curious. How long have you been together?"

"Rita, if you must know, we've been together for... a while. A couple of weeks," I told her; her face lit up at the news, and I noticed a flicker of green feather behind her shoulder. Sure enough she had that quill with her.

"What attracted you to him?" She asked, offering a seat upon a plush green couch, but I declined. "Was it the rumour surrounding the fact that he's the 'Chosen One'? Is it the fact he's a Quidditch player? His popularity?"

"He's been my best friend for as long as I've known, and it has _nothing_ to do with his status," I narrowed my eyes at the shorthand scratches that her quill was scribbling away. "We just... happened. That's all I have to say."

"I thought... whatshisname... Ronald Weasley was also a good friend?" she clearly hinted towards some sort of rumour. In her mind's eye she probably already had a whole love triangle story pictured.

"He is," I gave her a false smile. I never wanted to speak to Rita Skeeter again for as long as I lived. "Excuse me, I have to go."

Sighing heavily, I dashed through the crowd in search of Harry. He had been just behind me, so where did he vanish to? I bumped into him, hard, as I opened the dungeon door. Why was it that at any moment such as this we always ended up in extremely close situations? I swear I could see every little smudge on his glasses as he smiled at me.

"Harry? Where were you? You just disappeared..." I glanced at the ball of velvet in his hand, raising my eyebrows as if by instinct, waiting for his explanation... "Why on earth do you have your cloak?"

"I'll tell you later—"

"Harry!" A crocodile-skin purse waved madly above the heads of the other students; Rita Skeeter was trying to clamber her way through the crowd towards us.

"Bloody hell, get me away from that woman."

I didn't move. Something had happened - Harry had seen or heard something that shocked him, there was a confused look in his eyes. Not the oh-I-don't-understand-this-Transfiguration-question look, that he gave me very often, but as if he couldn't believe what he'd witnessed.

"Harry, are you okay?" I pressed on. "You look a little...unwell."

"You don't mind if I get some fresh air, do you?" he muttered. By this, I realised he was gesturing for me to come with him, his fingers slipping through mine again. I appreciated that simply by holding his hand, I felt as though he belonged to me, and I to him, just like our first kiss. Such a comforting feeling it gave me, his palm warming up my own, that I had a sudden giddy thought that I didn't want to let go.

The cold December chill hit me, my arms threatening to freeze as I walked down to the lake with him. Harry noticed my shiver, unfastening his cloak. The black velvet still had Harry's warmth on it as he tied the clasps around my own neck. His breath was shallow as I sensed the touch of his lips upon my throat for a moment, tenderly pressing against my pulse, and I released a breath I didn't realise I had been holding. I brushed my hands through his unruly hair as he looked back up at me.

"What's wrong?" I asked, as we sat under our familiar maple tree by the water's edge. I knew there was something he still wouldn't tell me.

"I followed Malfoy and Snape outside."

"I guessed as much."

"They started talking, arguing about something. It was like Snape was offering Malfoy help."

Snape? He was offering Draco Malfoy help with whatever he was doing? No matter how much we despised Snape as a teacher, there was no way that he would still be on Voldemort's side. Dumbledore trusted him. I voiced this opinion to Harry, "I'm sure Snape was trying to get information out of him. He is a member of the Order after all. If anything, I would be surprised if Snape didn't notice how oddly Malfoy's been acting."

"I knew you'd say that."

"You know me too well," I whispered, resting my cheek on his shoulder. He turned back towards the lake, his eyes set hard, as if staring into the distance. Something was still troubling him: what was it though? I queried him, "Harry?"

"I'm worried about you," he stated. Where on earth did he get that idea from? I sat back up, tilting my head with a questioning frown.

"Me? Look, I'll face up to Ron when the time comes, I swear—" I told him.

"It's not that...I...never mind."

His lips pressed softly against my forehead, its lines relaxing. I wondered if he was thinking back to the night he told me he wasn't sleeping well. Was that still affecting him? He caught me looking, our faces that much closer as the winter air felt alive and burning.

"I'm going to miss you over Christmas, you know," he breathed.

"This will be an early present then." My hand moved its way to the nape of his neck. His eyes never dropped from mine, our gaze focused only on each other. I was just about to kiss him when—FLASH!

_"_I do hope I didn't just spoil your moment!"

_Oh Merlin me._

I turned around to see Rita Skeeter standing behind us with her arms crossed, her camera, with its tiny flapping wings, zooming around her head before shooting into the sky.

_What?_ What good, in the name of Merlin, did she really expect would come of spreading more stories and photos around the wizarding world? I clenched my fists as I stood up— if she wasn't going to agree to my terms, only months after I'd let her go - then she clearly needed to have her facts straight.

"Harry, do you mind if I go to the _Owlery_? I need to send a letter to the _Ministry_ about a certain _Animagus_..." I stressed my point clearly enough for Rita, who instead of acting smug, looked quite afraid.

"Now why wouldn't you want your photograph in the Prophet tomorrow, poppet?" Rita sniggered, patronising me.

"Knowing you and your twisted ways, I wouldn't be surprised if you made up some blatant lie. You haven't had any work for the Prophet in ages, have you? You're only hoping to find a good enough story about Harry and I so you still have Galleons in your purse. You know you can't print that," I demanded, following her as she strode towards a Thestral-drawn carriage by the Hogwarts gates.

"I don't think you're exactly in the position to tell me what I can and cannot do. Either of you," she huffed, snapping the door back.

"Let's just get going," Harry, who had remained silent during our little spat, laced his hand with mine. He seemed just as aggravated by Rita Skeeter as I was, narrowing his eyes as at her as she waved mockingly out of the carriage door. "Common Room?"

I nodded in reply, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek as we headed back to the castle. One thought continued to fly around my mind: Harry still wouldn't tell me what was really bothering him.


	11. Chapter Eleven

In a way, it had been quite an eventful night. I'd felt so close to Harry, and he started opening up properly to me. We walked back to the common room hand in hand; a little irate from our run in with Rita Skeeter, but there was little need to worry about what she may put in the Prophet. The only person I knew it would anger was Ron, and he deserved it if he wasn't able to accept it. I fell asleep, comfortably so, once Harry and I said goodnight and that we would talk in the morning.

* * *

Being woken up in the early hours of the morning was less comfortable. Crookshanks's scratchy little paws had decided to scamper up onto my bed and start tapping on my bare foot. I was still half-asleep, as he started to purr against my hand. What did Crookshanks want at this hour? I peeked at him through one eye, sighing and got out of bed. He then proceeded to turn his head this way and that as though he was rolling his eyes, and slinked along the dormitory and down the stairs.

The fire was still lit in the common room, burning slowly away at the embers. Everyone was told that the last person to leave the common room had to put out the fire. Someone was still awake. Only one guess who that person could be: Harry. Slowly, Crookshanks pawed against his leg, letting out a deep purr before jumping up from the armrest to the back of the couch. Harry twisted his head round, as if unaware that Crookshanks had made that sound, and smiled tiredly when he saw me.

"What are you still doing up, Harry? It's past midnight," I yawned, meandering my way around the couch to see his book, "and since when do you actually study?"

"Au contraire, Hermione, this isn't studying," he gestured to the seat beside him with a lazy smile.

"If that's that stupid Potions book..." I mumbled, still a little grumpy that Crookshanks had disturbed my sleep, yet Harry was perfectly inclined to scratch behind his ear. _That cat..._

"It's not," he assured me, and flattened the book against his lap, so I couldn't notice the cover. "I'm simply reading for my own personal gain."

"Who are you, and what have you done with Harry Potter? You don't study unless we have exams, or important tests," I stared at him incredulously, warily taking a seat.

"You'll know soon enough. Jelly bean?"

He passed a small box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, a distinct smell of chocolate, lemon and sea salt coming from it.

"Oh, my one source of weakness," I mockingly held a hand to my forehead, and still raised an eyebrow as he shook the box appealingly. "You are not going to tempt me like some sort of donkey with a carrot."

"Tempt you? I don't think I'd need confectionery to do that, Hermione."

His fingers trailed along mine, gently tickling the back of my hand. I felt my cheeks blush ferociously at the fact that Harry could make me react this way. Did he honestly have to make innuendos like that? I suddenly felt slightly bare, and cuddled my dressing gown around my chest.

"You know what I meant."

"Come on, I dare you," he winked, throwing one above his head and catching it expertly in his mouth. "See, raspberry."

"Cherry," I grinned, and tentatively picked at the sweets, hoping that I would win this little challenge he was giving me.

"Tomato."

"Coffee," I swallowed, the taste of coffee bean quickly vanishing. Harry frowned when I said it, blinking quickly. "What? Coffee's nice-"

"Err... it's not that," he rasped; his face slowly turned red, and held his throat as if he was trying to breathe properly. "Can you get me a glass of water?"

I hid my laughter behind my hand as he nodded, shaking his hand wildly, and waiting impatiently for a glass.

"Chilli pepper, I suppose? Milk is a better solution, you know," I told him calmly, fighting away another fit of giggles as I passed a glass that I had configured to him. He drank it in one gulp. "Just that look on your face..."

"Oh, ha ha, very funny..." he said dryly and stuck out his tongue, but grinned along with me all the same.

"Not a fan of hot and spicy?" I took another jelly bean, happy to be received with a warm taste of honey.

"Depends what you're referring too."

"Do not make any double entendres at me, Harry James Potter!" I pointed accusingly, feeling my cheeks burn almost as brightly again. Diverting my gaze, I picked up the book he had been reading from the rug and read the title.

"_Unfogging the Future_? You don't even do Divination... you hated it." I frowned, glancing again at the spine.

"Like I said it's for personal gain-" he said, suddenly serious, and tried to snatch the book from my grasp again.

I flicked through the pages, searching for any that had dog-eared corners, where he couldn't have bothered using a bookmark like I usually did. I found one page:

"Dreams... Harry, is this what I think it's about?"

"You know you can be so adorably over curious, Hermione..." he ignored my question, holding my shoulder.

"Harry... you can tell me, honestly."

"I'm just having trouble sleeping. End of story."

"There's some Sleeping Draught up in the girls' dormitory." I told him, still almost certain he wasn't telling me the whole story.

"You are beyond brilliant."

He sat up, possibly a little too quickly than he planned, as he bumped into me. Then again, that may have actually been his plan. Our breath mingled as his hand captured my hair, his lips tentatively touching mine. Oh, he was devious. He was teasing me, not boldly kissing me outright, but making this time last for as long as possible... something struck me. I moved back an inch.

"Harry? You told me, earlier, that you were worried about me."

"I forgot what I was going to say. It doesn't matter," he said flippantly, his lips then enveloping my senses. Why was he acting like this? Why didn't he want me to know the truth? The kiss was telling me otherwise, a gentle touch at first, still tingling with the distant taste of hot pepper. I felt him smile beneath my lips, the featherlight touch of his fingers trailing along my cheek to my neck.

"Harry..." I breathed, holding onto the collar of his shirt. I hated myself for pushing him away but he had to talk. "You are going to sit up, and you are going to explain to me what exactly is wrong."

He didn't answer, instead looking quite disappointed.

"Harry, something is wrong, I can see it in your eyes - you've been acting like this over the last few days or so. What's the matter?"

"Fine."

He took a deep breath, his right hand noticeably shaking as I handed him his book back and said, "Fine, yes I am worried. It's... hard to explain. You don't realise that in a year, life may have completely changed for us. Voldemort is after me, and he knows there are ways of getting to me. He tried to get to me through Ginny, because he was my best friend's sister. I can't help thinking... about what happened to Sirius. What if it happened to you?"

I kept silent. I knew his godfather's death had been a hard knock to him, as it had been for all of us that knew him. Sirius had been his only connection to his parents and he had been taken away from him before they had a chance. I realised Harry and I had become such important pieces of one another's lives that we couldn't bear to think of losing each other, and Harry had already lost so much... I didn't want him to think that way.

"I keep having these incessant dreams, and I wonder if he's just playing with my mind, or if this is actually what I think might happen," he struggled to keep calm, his hands balled into fists as he closed his eyes. "Whenever I fall asleep - nearly every time - I have that dream. That you- that you could be-"

The salty prickle of tears started to form in my eyes. I didn't like to dwell on the truth, especially now Harry made it seem all the more definite - Harry really was going to go after Voldemort, and _was_ going to try and kill him, and could be killed in the process... the thought killed me.

"You and I both know - Harry, listen-" I held onto his wrist as his frown deepened. "If you're going to fight Voldemort, you are not going to do it without my help. Merlin knows what sort of trouble you'd get yourself into."

Harry opened his eyes.

"Oddly enough, that's what I thought your reaction would be," he tried to make light on the subject with a smile. "Hermione, you know I'd only ever want you safe... and if you came with me..." he pondered silently over what to say, and I could only imagine he was thinking of the worst case scenario. I shuddered and he squeezed my hand to calm me. "I don't think I'll be coming back next year, to Hogwarts."

"Whyever not? What about your NEWTs?"

"There would be no point in me sitting here waiting for Voldemort when I could earn myself a headstart in finding a way to defeat him."

"Harry, you are unbelievable sometimes," I sighed. He tilted his head in confusion as I spoke, my voice barely above a whisper. "Are you suggesting I can't look after myself? In all these years you've known me, would you realise that we're both safer if we stick together?"

We looked at each other, finally taking in what we had said. Harry cared for me, and I him. I remembered our first year, how I had helped him solve the puzzles towards the Stone. How I had tried to help before I was petrified in our second year. How I had been there for him throughout our third year and freed Buckbeak and Sirius. How I had helped him in the Triwizard Tournament and Dumbledore's Army and everything that led up to the incident in the Department of Mysteries. I only now realised how much we had done for each other. Every year he had tried, in some sort of daft, rash way to save our necks – and it almost always worked.

"So we're stuck. Like paper and glue," he said finally.

"Like chilli peppers and milk."

* * *

I slept, at most, for four hours. The night before, I had sorted and packed everything, all except for one book. One book I needed desperately to study for a test after the holidays.

I rushed to the Arithmancy classroom after breakfast, brushing a few toast crumbs from the corner of my mouth. Why did it have to be today where I became so unorganised? I guessed that Harry's influence for being a tad forgetful was rubbing off on me.

"Professor, did I leave-"

I stopped short when I saw the only occupant of the room. _Malfoy_. Something about his presence scared me; being alone with him brought back that small fear that he would curse or hex me as it had in the Owlery. He couldn't risk pulling any funny business now, not when there were plenty of teachers around the castle.

"For someone so intelligent, you'd think you'd be a bit more organised, Granger." Malfoy leaned back against the desk, my book held in his hands. _Merlin... how I hate him..._

"Knowing you, Malfoy, I wouldn't be surprised if you stole it," I scowled, still not moving from the doorway. I held my hand out, and he chucked it across to me. He looked surprised when I caught it, quickly stuffing it into my bag.

"At least I had the courtesy to give it back, but I didn't steal it. You left it behind." He stared me down, and for a moment I felt as though I should apologize (which was a very fleeting thought) but I still didn't believe him. He had taken it just to annoy me and make me late.

"Well, good..." I said, standing back against the door as he strode past.

Malfoy looked back to glare at me once more, I gathered, but conversely he didn't have that familiar half-smirk. He appeared quite worried, his mouth moving as though he wanted to say something. He didn't. Instead he turned around again, cursed 'Mudblood' under his breath and stalked off along the corridor. I wanted to retaliate, but I didn't – I knew Malfoy wasn't worth the effort.

I stood there confused, wondering whether Malfoy was acting oddly because he was under some sort of stress from Snape or possibly Death Eaters. It was a stab in the dark for all I knew, but there was definitely something he knew that I didn't – and that perplexed me.

Once upon the Hogwarts Express, Harry, Ginny, Luna, Neville and Dean were already sitting in our usual compartment near the front of the train.

"Got here in time then? Where were you?" Harry smiled, sliding the door across for me.

"I just had to get a book I left behind."

They all exchanged the typical looks that were associated with my infatuation of reading. I sat down in the seat beside Harry and Luna, the latter of which was wearing Spectrespecs and turning a copy of the Quibbler from left to right as if judging it like a map.

We spent most of the journey discussing our holiday plans, leading to Ginny promising that she would schmooze her way into her parents' good books so they could go to Diagon Alley. There was always a worry that with so many Death Eater attacks recently, we had to have 'constant vigilance' as Moody would always say.

I noticed Harry shift in his seat as Ginny, Luna and I moved onto the subject of the Daily Prophet.

"Harry? Is that today's edition?" I asked, pointing to the paper that Harry was smuggling behind his back.

"Harry, she may as well know," Ginny sighed, and snatched the paper away from him in one swipe. "Skeeter's been writing about you."

I prepared myself for the worst, though I wasn't terribly surprised that Skeeter would make a big scene about this.

_The Chosen One?_

Oh, Merlin, here we go.

_During a Christmas occasion last night, it appears that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, has made his close relationship with Hermione Granger public. Known for being the smartest witch of her year, and amid rumours that she was in a love triangle with Harry and the famous Quidditch Seeker, Viktor Krum, Miss Granger said "We've been friends for as long as I've known, and we just happened." She also stated that they had been dating for the past few weeks. This is clearly a sign that Harry Potter has found his 'chosen one', which should boost many a wizard's hope to end these dark times. Little mention has been made as towards her feelings for their other friend, Ronald Weasley._

I didn't know what to think – at first I thought she had an ulterior motive. I had been so harsh to her yesterday, and yet she was willing to write something reasonably pleasant about me, at least until Ron was mentioned. She did deserve an apology, no matter how much she had annoyed me. Skeeter hadn't made me out to be some sort of man-eater as she had in two years ago, simply saying that I was making Harry's life a little better. If anything, she deserved some form of thanks.

"What do you think of it?" Harry whispered against my ear, his breath ticklish.

"I think I'll write to her when I get home. I'm sorry about last night, Harry."

"There's nothing to worry about. I didn't expect her to write something nice at all after last night. Maybe what you told her made her think twice."

"So she wrote this to get a story even though she might not agree with it?" I quamed, mulling it over again in my mind.

"I guess so. If we cross paths again, we can find out. She did just seem curious to start with. At least I'm in the Prophet for something that is good, rather than some morbid attack."

Luna looked up from her Quibbler again as if a sudden thought had just struck her... either that or a Wrackspurt.

"Oh that reminds me, Harry, daddy was meaning to ask you whether you would give a little interview for the Quibbler sometime around Christmas. You know, to boost the festive spirit?"

"I'll see what I can do, Luna."

All five of us rose from our seats as the train pulled into King's Cross.

I admired Harry sometimes; he was endearingly polite and modest for someone who had achieved and experienced an awful lot. I remembered when I first met him, I thought he would be completely egotistical and self-absorbed, but that wasn't what he was like at all. It was safe to say he was one of the bravest and kindest people I had ever known.

"Harry?" I had no idea what urged me to say what I told him next. "I love you."

His face lit up at those words, as did my own. It felt right – I loved him, and though I was young and a little inexperienced in that area, I knew there were different types of love: a parent's love, something which I felt deeply sorry for as Harry had never really received; a sibling's love, which neither Harry or I had, but I always thought of Ron as a big brother, and I knew Harry thought of the Weasley family as his own quite often. And of course, there was the love I felt for Harry, the love that made me want to keep by his side through everything, both good and bad.

We stood in the carriageway smiling at one another, my cheeks beginning to hurt from beaming so much, but I didn't mind. I realised we were getting in the way of everyone else leaving the train, so I held his hand and pulled him towards the nearest open door.

"Yes, I'll write to you as soon as I get home, Ginny!" I caught up to her as we struggled onto the platform with our suitcases.

"Merlin, I'll miss you. It'll be odd not having a nagging bossy boots around," she teased, pulling me into a hug. "Kidding!"

"You'll end up being the bossy boots having to deal with those brothers of yours."

Harry was just behind me, holding Hedwig's cage carefully and setting his things down again. We hugged each other in farewell, holding onto one another as though the holidays would be far too long a time for us to be apart.

"I'll miss you Won-Won!" I heard Lavender squeal across the platform.

I chuckled softly against Harry's cheek at that voice. There was no need for Ron and Lavender to make such an effort, if they wanted to be together, they could at least act like normal human beings instead of toilet plungers.

"I'll miss you Lav-Lav, it's been absolutely marvellous to see you!" I called back to her, and received a glower in the process. I felt Harry's breath on my neck as he laughed, hugging me close. He looked at me, grinning. I told him, "I may as well have my fun until I see them back at school."

"I will actually miss you Harry." I reached up and kissed his cheek, my hand resting upon the other.

"And I'll miss you too, Herm-herm," he sniggered as I grimaced at that silly pet name. "I think I have the common decency to not call you that in future. You know, you never asked if I loved you back."

"Do you?" I asked, biting my lip.

"I do, and I always will love you, Hermione Granger." His words made me beam even more than when I had told him the same. "Do you have to go?"

"I wish I didn't have to. But we'll meet up again as soon as we can, agree?"

He kissed me, passionately, to seal that agreement. I was supposed to be a strong, sensible girl. How could he make me feel so dizzy? Hugging him one more time, I watched as he disappeared along with the rest of the Weasleys around the corner in their Ford Anglia.

Oh Merlin, this was _amazing_. Harry and I were in love; we would help and protect and stay with each other – something I had already sworn to myself that I would do. How could I tell my parents? Would they think I was crazy to have fallen in love with someone - and _Harry_ at that? I had known Harry for almost half my life and they knew that he was my best friend, regardless of whether we were together or not.

I noticed their car at the other end of the street, a distant hand waving and another person, my mother, about to walk up the path to meet me.

That's when it happened. That's when I was attacked.

* * *

**I would like to thank both Twisted Raver and Oceanwind for pointing me in the right direction with this chapter, and I'm actually quite proud of it. I know, I ended on a cliffie, but you'll love me for it!**

**Thanks to all my reviewers, I wouldn't be half as motivated if you weren't there!**

**I'll probably decide to update every 3 weeks, though honestly, I'm awful with deadlines, but I'll try to stick with it!**


	12. Chapter Twelve

A sensation, as though ice water was trickling down my back, hit me.

"Don't say a word, Mudblood."

I froze, stuck in the shadows. A harsh voice growled, pulling my arms tighter behind my back. I strained for my wand, my captor already realising this and snatching it from my pocket. Before I could scream or react in any way, I felt a sharp pull in my abdomen, the air twisting and constricting around me. In seconds, I found myself on all fours on a hard gravel pathway. I tried to regain my breath, but with no defence, I couldn't stop someone from Stunning me in the back. My vision blurred into darkness.

I came to, unaware of anybody else in the room I was held in and under the decreasing control of a Petrificus Totalus spell. Voices started muttering outside, and the door flew open. I closed my eyes, trying to listen in.

"You idiot, why didn't you stun her earlier?" One man growled roughly, in an unfamiliar tone.

"She was putting up a fight, I had to apparate before anybody noticed." The second voice was more recognisable, identified as the man who had attacked me.

I clenched my fists, my head still pounding as the spell wore off over me. I tried to stay still, hoping to chance upon any clue as to where I was and why. Observing through my half-closed lids I took in my surroundings: the room was small, judging by the amount of space the two men took up; it was almost pitch black, except for the thin stream of moonlight filtering through the windows.

Cursing myself, I blinked in the glare that appeared from a wand when one of them muttered Lumos, my head knocking back.

"She's conscious."

I tried to clamber up to my full height, clinging onto the mantelpiece as my feet trembled from their lack of use.

"Don't you-" My hand immediately moved towards my jacket pocket, before I realised my wand had been taken. "Right..."

I was cornered, and now my fight or flight instinct was kicking in. I glanced at the narrow windows that lined the room, far too small to scramble through in a hurry. Though I didn't recognise the first man, his large, strong build told me that it would be hopeless trying to stop him advancing without magic. The other more slight man was holding both his wand and my own, a malevolent grin passing over his thin scowling features.

"If you don't touch me, I'll stay still and wait for whoever you're working for," I stood my ground, so as to not be trapped any further against the stone wall.

"We've no need to make deals with filthy scum like you," The larger of the two pushed my shoulder, and a shot of pain went through me as I hit the wall.

"Well, well, you two have finally come to some use," A female voice called from the doorway.

Bellatrix Lestrange. I was sure that the worst case scenario in my mind was not even close to what she was going to do to me. My blood boiled at the fact that she had murdered Sirius, and killed and hurt so many people out of spite, their bloodline or their beliefs.

I was grabbed by my arms and forced onto my knees by the two men. Her hand reached for my chin, coercing me to look into her face. I twisted away from her, my hands still clenched in fists. I caught a glimpse of something silver in her hand. A knife. I gulped.

"If I had my own way, Mudblood, you'd be dead long before now," She looked down at me, as she began playing with the blade in her fingers. "So there's no need to worry now, is there, dear?"

"You won't get away with this, the Ministry-" I began.

"Firstly, you have no idea where you are," Bellatrix cast 'Incarcerous' upon my wrists before I could react. "Secondly, the Aurors haven't caught us yet – they haven't even admitted some of us have escaped – so what makes you think they'll do so anytime soon? And thirdly, you won't be able to say a word about this after tonight."

My hope of getting out of here quickly dissipated. Did this mean I was walking to my death? Harry would be safe at the Burrow, with the Weasleys and the Order there to watch over them. Did anyone know that I was missing? I wondered what had happened to my parents, if they were safe. I felt stupid for not following even the most basic of wizarding rules to have another wizard or witch accompanying you at all times. How could I be so reckless? My feet followed the step of Bellatrix's, my arms bound too tightly for me to fight against without the chance of being hurt or killed sooner. I was led up a narrow staircase, lined with the same grey stone that reflected a flicker of wandlight.

The room we entered was lighter, a grand chandelier hanging above us. I tried to pinpoint who would have such a house this ostentatious and substantial – one family immediately came to mind. This was Malfoy Manor.

I looked up boldly into Bellatrix Lestrange's dark eyes and asked, "What do you want with me?"

"You'll find out soon enough." Her lip curled into a smile, and she flung me upon the floor, breaking the ropes that bound me.

My mind was bombarded with terrible thoughts, the thought of Harry being killed before my eyes, the deaths of so many others – Ginny, Ron – the Burrow being burnt to the ground. I felt glass and ice slice at my body, snakes biting at my arms, the cold chill of a Dementor's hand choking my throat, pure pain running through my veins. I gasped a breath as I opened my eyes. A thin coat of sweat covered my forehead, my body shaking from shock.

No wonder she used the Cruciatus curse upon people; any sane person would feel like they'd been to hell and back after something as awful as that. But there was definitely something different about the curse, some sort of Legilimency, something that could tear through my mind with indescribable fear and anguish. And I felt sick to my stomach at the thought she enjoyed watching people suffer so much.

"I assume you know of the Unbreakable Vow?" She asked. Her hand gripped my hair, pulling my head back to look at her. I nodded, the taste of blood filling my mouth as I realised I had bitten my lip. My voice came out in short ragged breaths.

"Then I don't think I need to explain much further. Either you do this, or you, your friends and family and your precious Potter won't ever see the light of day."

Her hand dropped, my head falling back down with a thud upon the floorboards. My heart plummeted into my stomach – had they captured Harry and my parents? What about the Weasleys, Luna, Neville? None of them would have gone down without a fight. I strained to hear for any other sounds, listening for any other sign that anybody else was here. Silence.

"And how would I know that if I did agree, they wouldn't all be killed anyway?" I retorted, still struggling for breath.

She didn't answer, instead resolving to use the Cruciatus Curse again. I screamed in agony, yet I tried with all my might to stop my mind from reacting, praying that it would end as suddenly as it had started. Pure pain coursed through my veins, my heart threatening to explode. I lay upon the floor again in seconds, Bellatrix holding onto my arm, the silver blade teasing at the skin on my forearm. She traced the letter M slowly, barely touching me, which caused the most pain as I screamed for my life, my lungs almost giving out.

"Stand up or I'll finish writing the rest," Bellatrix spat, yet my limbs were too weak to move. Her voice changed, becoming more intimidating as she shouted, "Didn't you hear me, little Mudblood? Stand up!"

A flash of light, and I couldn't control myself. Bellatrix forced me to stand upon my feet, as though I was being toyed with like a puppet.

"Now listen... a little birdie told me that you know something you shouldn't. A secret you've discussed with Potter." She whispered in my ear; she used that same cackle she'd used when she hurt Harry, when she hurt my friends. I hated to think back to that awful night at the Ministry.

"I don't know w-what you're talking about..." I started.

"I think you do," a voice called from the other end of the room, the light behind him as he opened the door showing his tall, thin silhouette.

I knew that voice. How could I not?

Draco Malfoy walked into the light, his pale face illuminated. His grey eyes were set hard, as if he couldn't bear to have to look at me like a human being. Of course, no one in that family did.

"Why has she been tortured?" He asked, turning away for a moment. Bellatrix walked over to him, leaving me to stand alone, still under the Imperius curse.

"Draco, poppet, she's a stubborn little piece of scum but it seems she's changing her mind now, with a little encouragement."

I kept my eyes on the floor, too infuriated to look Malfoy in the face. If I hadn't believed Harry's claims that he was a Death Eater, I most certainly did now. I felt sick, partly for the situation, partly because I could feel drops of blood trailing along my arm.

He held out his hand, Bellatrix soon pressuring my own to join his. _No!_ I tore my arm back, stumbling against the wall. As soon as the curse had broken, Bellatrix was enraged, fury trembling through her black spirals of hair. A whimper escaped my lips as she cast another red streak of light in my direction, daggers diving into my back. In moments she had urged my grasp into Malfoy's. She held out her wand and flashed a malevolent smile, a light glow over our hands.

Glancing up, Malfoy fixed me with a scowl. As though this was my fault. My own stupid, selfish fault.

"Will you agree to assist me with the mission I have been given?"

I shut my eyes. No, I couldn't possibly help someone whose intentions were so wrong. They all wanted muggles and muggle-borns gone from the world, so why on earth would I concede to this? A wand pointed against my cheek, that belonging to the devil woman controlling me. My mind fogged, my lips moving without choice and I heard myself speak the words, "I will."

"Will you agree to follow me when I have completed my mission?" He asked, his eyes closed as his brow furrowed.

I tried to pull my hand away from his, yet it seemed to be held in place by the chain of silver light that wrapped around our grasp. If Malfoy was intending for me to help him, and he did achieve what he was set out to do, why on earth should I be willing to accompany him? Everything... everything would change if I actually had to go through with this. I couldn't do this. My voice said otherwise with a weaker reply.

"I will."

"Will you agree not to discuss the mission and what has happened tonight to anyone else except me?" Malfoy asked, now looking at me. I shuddered, and caught a glimpse of emotion in his eyes. Was he reconsidering – was he guilty?

"Please... Malfoy, please don't do this... I didn't-" I uttered the words with a breath that felt as though it would be my last. I couldn't do this. Harry needed me to help him, to be there for him. I couldn't turn my back on him like this.

A last flash of red light seared through my body, beckoning me to finally scream out, "YES!"

This was worse than hell, worse than anything I could ever have imagined. I was being forced to work for Voldemort against my will. How on earth could I have let this happen? Even if this did mean that my friends wouldn't be hurt now, they still would be if Voldemort succeeded in doing whatever he had planned. And I was doing the worst possible thing by agreeing to help.

The three glowing threads vanished around our hands. I was tossed aside on the floor, too weak to stop my fall. I heard a shout, a yell from somewhere, and I let the darkness envelop me.

"Are you okay dear? Dan, bring a glass of water I think she's a little better."

I opened one eye. My mother sat beside me. I soon realised that I was lying in my own bed in the safety of my home. She wore a worried smile, one which I was sure I had inherited from her.

"Mum?" I spoke, my throat feeling dry.

"Hermione, dear, you've got a very high fever." She explained, and smoothed my hair back from my forehead, resting my head back onto my pillow. "When we got home last night you seemed exhausted so we put you straight to bed. How do you feel now?"

"Awful. I think I've just been overworking myself at school, no wonder I'm ill."

I had just lied to my own mother. Of course, I had made the odd little fib to avoid trouble, but this was a huge white lie.

"Do you want me to get you anything? I'll be working later so your dad will look after you. Is that alright?"

She stood up, taking the cool flannel from my head and telling me she would replace it for me. I couldn't take any of it in – my mind was still whirring with confusion. Clearly, my parents had been placed under a memory charm to forget what had happened to me last night. They simply believed that I came home and didn't feel well. Had they been hurt at all? I wondered if anyone had known that I was missing.

I needed to be alone.

"Thanks. I think I'll just head to the bathroom." I hugged her shoulder and swung out of bed, feeling slightly rested. At least I could walk properly.

Once inside, I stared at my ashen reflection in the vanity mirror, my forehead burning with fever. I pulled back my left sleeve, and sure enough, a small pink scar in the shape of an 'M' was imprinted there. I held onto the side of the sink, trying to calm my breathing. This was too real. How could I have let this happen?

"Hermione, what on earth have you just done?" I mused to myself before splashing my face with cold water.

I was now holding onto a secret I didn't want to keep and the one person I could speak of it with was the one I didn't want to. And then there was Harry. I wanted to tell him everything, and yet I couldn't... or could I?

I dashed back to my room, my school bag neatly sitting on my desk. What did Malfoy necessarily mean by 'discussing' it?

**Another (sort of) cliffie! I am cruel, aren't I? I'd say this is fairly good timing as I've just finished all my exams and I can actually focus on this a little more! What are your thoughts on the chapter? Reviews are like cookies, very much appreciated!**

**I would also like to thank Twisted Raver, my faithful beta, for going through the chapter, as it does differ from what I usually write. And also a shout out to IAmDraco96 who I have been helping out - and is a very good writer might I add - who has two recent fanfics 'Hear No Lies' and 'The New Divide'.**


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Unfortunately, I didn't take a leaf out of Harry's book and 'update as soon as possible', but I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I was thinking about moving the story forwards in the next chapter, probably to when they return to Hogwarts. As always, read and review, because I will send you giant air hugs in return :3 And thanks to those of you who have stuck with this story despite my slow updates, and to Twisted Raver for being an amazing beta!**

_Dear Harry,_

_I need to tell you about_

I dropped my quill just as I was about to write the next word. My hand jolted back from it in agony, as though it was under the Cruciatus curse; it seared with pain for barely ten seconds before it dissipated. What had happened? Did the conditions of the Vow mean that I couldn't _write_ anything about it? I hated the thought that something was limiting my every move. I tried to shake this notion from my head and just make the most of not having to be anywhere near Malfoy and those insane Death Eaters for now.

At least now I could find out the boundaries of the Vow.

I thought back to what I had promised: I had to help Malfoy with his mission, go with him once he had finished, and never speak of it to anyone except him. That seemed impossible, but why would I go down without a fight over something as important as this? Harry was bound to ask questions about what Malfoy was up to - he did it almost every day. How could I just change the subject without him becoming curious? I made a mental note that I would read up on the terms of Unbreakable Vows as soon as I returned to Hogwarts.

Picking up my quill again, I tentatively took another roll of parchment and was about to write again when there was a knock at my bedroom door.

"Hermione, do you want dinner?" My father asked, his head poking around the door with a smile. I didn't realise how much I'd missed the both of them at school, and that was reinforced by how scared I was last night that they were hurt.

"Do you feel any better, dear?" He walked in and sat down on a chair beside me, an expression playing upon his face that was somewhere between worry and sympathy.

"Slightly," I mumbled. I started toying with the sleeve of my jumper, keeping it pulled around the wrist. How was I supposed to hide a physical mark of what Bellatrix had done to me? I resorted to sticking to my original excuse. "I just told mum that I was probably overworking myself too much at school."

"How many subjects did you say you were taking? I'm sure you add another one on every week." He poked fun at me, with a smile that made me beg myself to tell him everything.

"Oh shut up. I've just had a lot of tests and homework." I found myself easing into the lie, almost trying to convince myself that nothing bad had happened.

"How's school been overall then? Ron and Harry on your nerves still?"

"Ron's not in the best of moods with me. But Harry and I are fine. Actually... we're better than fine." I took his raised eyebrow as a gesture to continue. "Harry and I... well, we're together."

"God, I guess I should go into the whole '_don't let him mess you around'_ business – kidding!" He grinned as I was about to roll my eyes. "He seems like a nice kid."

"So you don't mind?"

"Of course not. As long as he makes you happy." He placed a kiss on my cheek and stood up as something caught his eye outside. "There's an owl at the window."

And sure enough, Hedwig was swooping through the air and threatening to thud into my bedroom window. I ran over and opened it, as she landed on the windowsill, ruffled feathers and all.

"Surprise, surprise, we were just talking about your owner," She pecked at my finger affectionately before flying to her usual perching place on top of my wardrobe. I smiled back at my dad as I saw Harry's unmistakable writing. "I'll be down in a minute."

I tore open the envelope, and read the familiar scribbles of Harry's hand.

_Dear Hermione,_

_It does seem weird actually calling you __dear__, in a good way of course. Things are going reasonably well at the Burrow. I know you wanted me to update as soon as possible, so I'll just say for now that Ron hasn't threatened to kill me - yet. I'm all for optimism at the moment, apart from the fact that I'm missing you like crazy._

_Ginny wanted to ask if you would come to Diagon Alley with us all on Saturday around noon. She said it was easier for me to write it than have her put Hermes through the stress of flying in this weather._

_Love,  
Harry_

_P.S. You remember what we talked about on the night of Slughorn's party? If you can come to Diagon Alley, I need to talk to you about it._

I didn't realise how tightly I was holding the parchment until Hedwig hooted at me. I hated myself. How on earth could I just pretend that everything was normal now? Harry told me what he was scared of – he didn't want anything bad happening to me. What if this was what he'd been dreaming about? What if Harry had worried that I would be tortured and forced into an Unbreakable Vow?

If that _was_ what Harry had foreseen, I certainly couldn't tell him it was true. I didn't want to think about it yet – maybe I could put it off until later. That wouldn't work; I'd just be fuelling the fire to my worries by doing that.

I wrote a quick reply.

_Dear Harry,_

_I miss you so much too. I'm sure I can make it to Diagon Alley so we can talk again. And I'm happy to hear you and Ron haven't been duelling at dawn._

_Love,  
Hermione_

"You know something's wrong, don't you, Hedwig?" I glanced away from the snowy owl, her amber eyes probably seeing straight through me before setting her free. However, the same could not be said for me. I had just been trapped and the route to escape felt far out of my reach.

With an excessive, but much needed amount of hours' sleep earlier, I didn't feel the need to rest much more that night. Yet with the few hours that I did sleep, I was thrown into an awful nightmare. The face of Bellatrix Lestrange loomed above me, flashes of red causing me to toss and turn as I slept. I woke up clinging to my pillow for dear life, just as I saw a spark of green aimed in my direction. I rushed to the bathroom, feeling just as sick as I had been the day before. I hoped this would not become a vicious cycle.

I was able to enjoy the following nights' sleep I did receive, with barely a dark thought occupying my head. However, when I was awake, fear of what could happen overtook me.

* * *

"Hermione?"

I sat beside my mother in the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for Harry and the Weasleys to arrive. The first thought that hit me over the few days at home was that I had to stay aware of what the Death Eaters already knew. They clearly knew who my parents were, otherwise the two of them would be asking and worrying far much more without their memories wiped. It felt like – in fact, it _was_ – a violation of privacy for my parents, and more evidently a violation of every kind for me. Of free will, privacy and peace of mind.

A nagging feeling in the back of my mind told me that the Death Eaters could have worked out where I lived. This was less likely; I had placed protection and concealment charms upon the house as soon as I'd realised in the summer that I was no longer completely safe. At least I was right about that.

"Hermione? Are you alright?"

The soft sound of my mother's voice broke me from my thoughts. I smiled back at her in apology.

"Right as rain. Just have a few things on my mind."

"One of those things being Harry, I suppose?" She asked, meekly taking a sip from her coffee and returning my smile with a knowing smirk.

"Of course, dad told you then?"

"Well, I don't see anything wrong with it." Her smirk softened, returning to her familiar smile. "He seems like a clever young man, though... what with all those stories and rumours and such... how is he doing? He must have such a burden."

Sometimes I regretted the fact that my parents now had the Daily Prophet delivered weekly. I'd wanted them to stay in touch with the wizarding world, but, as I knew they would be, they were always worried if any story involved me or any friends I had mentioned to them. For a moment, I was surprised my parents had even allowed me back to Hogwarts considering the madness in the Department of Mysteries.

"He doesn't mind the Prophet really." I stared into the empty remains of my mug, something that reminded me horribly of Divination lessons. Frankly, I didn't want to know anymore about what I would or would not do in the future. I looked back up and continued, "They used to be horrible about him, and called him a liar... so I guess there's been some improvement."

"That's good to hear," She beamed and glanced past my shoulder, presumably at someone who had just entered the pub. "Oh, speak of the devil."

"Hermione!"

In the space of little more than a week, Harry seemed different. I couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was; it certainly wasn't a physical change. His hair was still as messily organised as his homework, as always. Then I noticed it. He was troubled. Of course, he'd always had trouble since the day he was born practically, but he didn't seem to be worried about himself.

The feature that had given it away was his smile. I watched as he was greeted by Tom, the barman, and several old wizards that had noticed him as they walked past. He was so polite and caring; I was surprised when his smile faltered as he turned in my direction, just for a second, before he came up to meet me.

"Harry!" I smiled back, the first unforced smile I realised I'd used over the last few days, considering my situation. He pulled me into a close hug, my head resting upon his shoulder. I bit my lip when no one was looking, then returned his hug with just as much love. What could I do?

"It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Granger." He greeted my mother with a sincere smile.

"You too, Harry." She nodded gently, a gentle laugh playing on her lips. "Are Arthur and Molly about?"

"They're just outside."

"Harry, you have no idea how much I've missed you."

"I think I might have a pretty good idea. I've missed you so much too." He said half-seriously, and I wondered what he was trying to get at. "Actually, do you want to go somewhere quieter?"

"Harry, is this another one of your insinuations?" I joked, trying to convince myself nothing was wrong.

"I mean about the letter." He whispered softly by my ear, his hand slowly leading mine towards the entrance to Diagon Alley.

"Harry, what's wrong? Is it anything to do with me wanting to help you?" I wondered, following him into the wizarding street as soon as he had tapped the wall with his wand.

"No... Wait, let's go in here."

We walked into Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, finding a secluded quiet corner where we could talk in peace. I had suddenly lost my appetite and declined when Harry asked if I wanted anything. I knew where he was going with this before he'd even spoken.

"It's about the dreams." He told me, his hand quickly running through his hair as he spoke. I found it incredible that he could pretend so easily around everybody else and the barrier had just been broken down when he spoke to me. He looked up from his glass. "Hermione, you would tell me if anything was wrong or had happened to you, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, of course."

"A few nights ago, I was dreaming and then, well..." He took a deep sigh, as if trying to remember everything. It was clear by his frown that he didn't like to keep this thought in his head. "You were being taken through an old house; Bellatrix and Malfoy were there..."

"Harry, I can assure you that I have been absolutely fine. Look, not a scratch on me." I stretched out, until he reached for my wrist. I pulled it back by instinct, something I knew was an instant reaction ever since I had been taken to Malfoy Manor.

"Can I see your arm?" He seemed slightly hurt at the thought that I didn't want him to touch me. He held his hand out as if he was a healer wanting to inspect something. "Your left arm. Just to be safe."

"Harry, what on earth... fine." I muttered shakily, sliding my sleeve just before my elbow. My fingers covered the now pale mark that was written there. I pushed it back down to my wrist and looked Harry in the eyes. "This is Voldemort messing around with your head again. Harry, there's nothing wrong with me. See."

Harry leant back in his chair, looking down at his hands in confusion. I felt awful to have to lie to him, but if he had found out about my mark, there would have been a lot of explaining to do – which I clearly wasn't able to.

"I'm sorry Harry. I know you're only looking out for me." I took his hand, whilst the other was held to his forehead in frustration. He opened his eyes and grinned.

"And you know why? Because I love you." He brought my hand to his lips for a moment, and I couldn't help feeling the need to pull away and blurt everything out as he kissed it gently.

Instead I simply replied, "I'll never forget that."

"We didn't really have much time to talk at the station, did we?" He pondered, his thumb tracing over the back of my hand in his usual manner. "You know, I really do mean it. I think I started loving you ever since you told me I was a great wizard."

"You're oh so modest, aren't you?" I teased sarcastically, with a small laugh.

"Don't you remember? The chessboard when we were going after the Philosopher's stone?"

"Yes, I remember. I just didn't realise you felt for me in that way for so long," I felt my cheeks warm and glanced down at my lap for a moment, confused. "I'll admit it, I thought that too when you saved me from the troll. Maybe not romantically, but you know..."

"Well what was I to do for my damsel in distress?" He grinned over his sundae and tapped my nose with the end of his spoon. "I'm kidding. You're brilliant, Hermione."

I smiled back, but my heart was gnawing away at my head. I wanted to tell him everything, to tell him not to call me brilliant, to tell him I despised myself for getting into this stupid situation. If I stayed around Harry for much longer, I was sure my whole mind would explode into insanity with this guilt. I loved him; I didn't want to change that.

Harry stood up, leaving a few Sickles behind. He offered his hand, which I took, and we left, my stomach twisting into knots all the while.

"I have to pick up a few books from Flourish and Blotts." I told him as we passed Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the purple walls standing out against the dull stone of the neighbouring shops. "I'm sorry I couldn't help about your dreams. Doesn't Mrs. Weasley have any Sleeping Draught? This isn't safe for you."

"I know, Hermione, and I know you want me to block it out. But it's the only way I can know for sure what he's up to."

"But how do you know that _definitely_?" I rested my head on his shoulder, and he looked down at me. I glanced up to meet his eyes.

"I don't," He whispered and pressed his forehead to mine for a moment, before I saw something bright green flash towards us out of the corner of my eye.

"Get down!" I pulled him hard to the floor, much more forcefully than I'd meant to. I turned around at the sound of a wolf whistle. I opened my eyes to find myself lying on top of Harry, who seemed to be just as dazed by all this as I was.

"Harry! Hermione! Great to see you, caught you in the midst of a snog, have I?" Fred Weasley peered out of the shop door and grinned at us, wearing bright magenta robes. He proceeded to walk outside, in the direction of a garish green Frisbee with snapping fangs, the object I had mistaken for a curse. "Oh don't mind me, George and I've already pestered Ron every chance we've had about Lavender."

I smiled at that thought, imagining the two of them to be pressing all of Ron's buttons, before asking, "How's the shop doing?"

"We were thinking of setting up shop in Hogsmeade. A fat lot of good that'll do since you can't go any more."

"Blame Malfoy." Harry muttered pointedly, an obvious look of hatred appearing on their faces at his name.

"Little git," Fred agreed, picking up the Fanged Frisbee, which was attempting to bite his thumb. "What, so he actually hurt Katie?"

"That's what we think, but McGonagall hasn't gone any further into it, and we've told Dumbledore too. But Katie will be back in a few weeks."

"Ginny!" I called out, slightly louder than I'd meant to. I smiled back at them and ran into the shop. That was too close. If that was one of the only things Harry would talk about what on earth was I going to do? Just run away every time he said Malfoy's name?

"Hey, it's great to see you. Got everybody's presents?" Ginny appeared around a tall pile of Skiving Snackboxes.

"What do you think? You've known me for the past five years and you _don't_ expect me to have everything absolutely organised?"

"Of course, it's silly of me to ask. I was wondering what to get Ron." She raised an eyebrow as she glanced over at a collection of Ton-Tongue Toffees, clearly tempted to prank Ron with one of them. "I might just throw some Dungbombs in his room and have done with it."

"You know that would just make him mad." I pointed out, but couldn't help wanting to agree with her.

"And how's that a bad thing?" She said mischievously, before becoming slightly more serious with the tone of her voice. "Have you got anything... for Ron?"

"I don't know. I've thought about it but unless he grows up, I don't see why I should get him anything."

"Shouldn't you understand how upset he is over all this, though?" She started to frown.

"Sorry?"

"He's always felt left out around you two, and now that you're _together_ he feels like you're pushing him out even more. You're the clever, resourceful one, Harry's the 'Chosen One' as it seems," She appeared to be amazed with herself. "Yeah, I can't believe I've actually listened to him moaning either. But I can see why he's not on speaking terms yet with you two."

I often thought that Harry would have felt that way, especially since he usually had to stay with the Dursleys for most of the summer. Ron and I had known a lot about the Order of the Phoenix before Harry had even known about Grimmauld Place, which we soon found out when he had vented his anger at us. This obviously applied to Ron now – we hadn't spoken to him honestly in weeks, maybe months. No wonder he was furious with us.

"So he and Harry haven't spoken at all?" I asked, glancing at Harry from the shop window, who was still talking to Fred.

"That's the problem. Whenever Harry tries to make civilised conversation Ron just blocks him out or goes out the room. And that's not helpful when my mum has pretty much shacked them up with the same jobs over Christmas. She hasn't noticed a thing about it."

"_Boys." _We said in unison, and started laughing. I wondered how I felt far more relaxed around Ginny than Harry at that moment, which convinced me to ask my next question.

"Ginny?" I started, and she nodded for me to continue. "If you had to do something you didn't want to do, what would you choose to do?"

"Depends what it is. I'd probably just get it over and done with. Why'd you ask?"

"Just wondering," I told her tersely, and subconsciously rubbed my left arm.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**A/N: I know. I must be the most despicable human being in the world for not getting this chapter out sooner. It took a fair while for me to sort out the last few bits and pieces with this (with much assistance from Twisted Raver) and I really should have done something about it. But life gets in the way. I'm far more motivated to continue with this when I'm at school (now sixth form! Yay!). This is the perfect procrastination :D Oooh, went to Alnwick Castle (where parts of the first two HP films were shot :D) - beautiful place!**

**Pottermore anybody? I'm now a definite Ravenclaw (my results always point that way) - Quillmahogany67**

**Thank you to omegahurricane (thank you for your reassurance, and I'm sorry the plotline turned to something you don't really want to read), Albino87 (all in good time I will reveal all!), TazziJadeBlack, Oceanwind, kristenwood, loveforpotter and marrissa gnokawitz for reviewing the last chapter!**

* * *

Christmas at home was peaceful, it was one occasion where I didn't worry or fret or regret anything. In fact, for that one day, it felt as though I had forgotten that anything had happened to me. Of course, that wasn't completely true, I woke up whimpering against my pillow more often than not – but Christmas was supposed to be a joyful, exciting time with family and friends. As far as things mattered for those twenty-four fleeting hours of the twenty-fifth, I did feel that way. Me, my parents and letters and parcels from friends.

Ginny had sent me a large selection of Deluxe Sugar Quills, my favourites. Luna had sent me an ominous looking package containing a purple turnip-like object, leading me to feel unsure about which creature this plant was meant to ward away. A box of Fred and George's new prototypes, picked out to be deemed appropriate for me.

I opened Harry's present last, flat yet delicate judging by its weight. I opened the paper carefully, to reveal several photographs all bound in a leather album. I looked at the photos of Harry and I over the years, treasuring each in turn. Harry obviously didn't know that while looking at them all, the knot in my stomach, which had taken permanent residence since our visit to Diagon Alley, had tightened. Some photos I was unsure of them having been taken, most likely by Colin Creevey.

I skimmed through to a photo of Harry just after the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, and my beaming smile as I pulled my towel around his shoulders. I was told later that Harry had tried to rescue me too, and that was probably the only other time I had the thought that Harry could have liked me more than a friend. I should have realised it sooner. He was my best friend. The only problem was: would he always be so?

* * *

Ancient Runes was the only lesson on our first day back that gave me an opportunity to talk to Malfoy. I waited until the end of class, when all the other students had left. I pretended to be finish off translating a line of runes before walking past him on the way to the door.

"You've got some explaining to do." I muttered.

"Good afternoon, Granger." He smirked, and finished packing his bag slowly, clearly having expected me to wait to talk to him.

"Malfoy, you can't just-"

I glanced towards the door, until I knew the other students had already left. Our professor was stacking away several books in her storeroom, a safe distance for nobody to listen to us. Malfoy grabbed my sleeve, hissing under his breath and leaning closer.

"The room on the seventh floor, the one you used for your stupid DA club. Meet me there. Five thirty sharp."

I pulled away my arm, shivering at the sound of his voice... bringing back so many nightmares I had of that awful night. What did I expect? For him to feel sorry? Feel guilty? He was a Slytherin who wanted me to suffer and hated the fact I even existed. I exited the room in barely a second, knowing that by the end of the day I would have my answers.

* * *

I didn't want to, I knew it was probably better not to, but at half past five that day I was in precisely the spot I was asked to be out of my own stubborn curiosity. On the third walk past the wall, the door to the Room of Requirement materialised.

The room was in its jumbled state: old textbooks, furniture, just a bunch of clutter people had hidden away over the years and never return to collect them. It was all here just as it had been on that day I ran in here by chance. I drew my wand at the sound of a voice, light illuminating the ceiling in a second as I set the lamps ablaze.

"Sit." Malfoy called, leaning against a desk in the middle of the room. He nodded towards the chair beside him. For all I knew, he may as well be planning to tie me up in it.

"No, I'd prefer to stand." I said sharply and started pacing the room, not even sparing a second to look down at Malfoy, my fist clenched around my wand until my knuckles were white. "Why did you do this? You think I want anything to do with your sick Death Eater ways?"

"If it wasn't obvious already, I'm sure the little incident before Christmas was enough proof."

At that, I looked towards him, wanting to slap that smirk off his face in an instant, but that wouldn't get me much further to finding out anything. Instead I continued to flex my fingers.

"You won't let me say a word to anyone about whatever you're doing – which, you haven't even told me yet – and you actually want me to help you? Why on earth would you need help from me, the dirty little _Mudblood_ Granger?"

"Help? I don't need-" He breathed a low and irritated sigh before looking away. It still set him on edge when I called myself a Mudblood. "You knew too much already, so why shouldn't I let you in on it all now?"

"You've been stringing me along all this time? How wonderfully Slytherin of you. What about the Ravenclaws? I'm surprised you haven't Imperiused half of them." I couldn't have hated anyone more. Every fibre of hatred and anger I felt towards him trembled in my voice.

"This seems far more... _enjoyable_. You can imagine the amusement I got out of seeing you worry over me telling Weasley everything about you and your precious Potter. But you did that all yourself didn't you? Clever you." He patronized with a harsh cold laugh.

That was it. My hand grabbed for his collar, for the green and silver knot of his tie. But of course, Draco Malfoy wasn't a Seeker for nothing. He tore my hands away, my wand being flung to the floor in the process, and squeezed my wrists tightly until he was sure I wouldn't retaliate. I struggled, my hands now balled into fists.

"Don't you realise that you're messing around with my life?" I breathed, my voice too dry for me to speak clearly. If I swallowed, I knew I would be on the brink of tears. I couldn't give him the satisfaction. "I-I-I can't even think straight! I've been lying to my family, my friends... you wouldn't even let me write-"

"_Write_? You're really not as bright as you look, are you? Why on earth would I let you write to Potter? To anyone in fact?" He spat, releasing my arms and letting me drop to the floor.

"You said 'discuss', that's got nothing to do with—" I kept my eyes on the floor as I knelt to pick up my discarded wand.

"As a matter of fact it does. In an exam at the very least."

"Do you really want to push me any further at the moment?" My eyes snapped back to his, and I stood my ground. "Because I swear I will use far more jinxes on you than you've probably even _heard_ in your life."

"Empty threats, Granger, you wouldn't." He loomed over me with a smirk, the several inches he had on me were at his advantage. "Now, if you actually sit, I'll explain everything."

I flinched by reflex as he extended his hand to gesture me towards a table. Why was I being so jumpy? He wasn't going to curse me. He couldn't without someone soon enough realising that he was behind it. Would anyone be able to find out what I was being forced to do? I slid into the chair opposite him, my hand enveloping my wand as though my life depended on it. I hoped that would not be the case.

"So you've figured out I'm a Death Eater, well good for you. You need to assist me in trying to fix something," He turned his head towards a tall black cabinet, one that seemed familiar. "This is a Vanishing Cabinet. I assume—"

"Yes, I know. This is the cabinet Montague was stuck in, wasn't it?" He nodded, and I pieced it together. Montague's head couldn't have just disappeared; the cabinet had to lead somewhere. "Why do you need it fixed?"

"You know that Vanishing Cabinets can come in pairs. The other is situated elsewhere, but that's of little importance at the moment, this is what I'm focusing on."

"So what's the problem?"

"The link between the two is broken. I've fixed part of the magical boundaries, but there's still something not quite right."

"The other cabinet is in Borgin and Burke's." I revealed, and he looked at me in surprise. His icy slate-grey eyes then narrowed at the knowledge that I had followed him in Diagon Alley.

"On the ball today, aren't you? Planning to take sneaking around as a permanent career, Mudblood?"

"Are you asking for a death sentence? Either way you'd be getting one." I replied coolly.

"No I won't. Because you can't hurt me." A twisted grin appeared on his face, and he nodded to my right. "How's your hand?"

"I...Fine... what do you mean?" I asked tentatively, my right hand trembling at the thought, at the memories. How did he know I had felt pain in my hand when I tried to write to Harry? In an instant my mind worried frantically about how _much_ he knew.

A low, shaky breath escaped my lips. I noticed Malfoy's tone grow more serious, more determined.

"It's the conditions of the Vow. If you hurt me, you wouldn't be _helping _me. If you caused me injury leading to my death, you wouldn't be able to follow me once I've finished fixing this. I won't allow you to tell anyone about this, either in writing or not."

"You can't just change it... I was forced to accept the Unbreakable Vow there and then."

There was an uncomfortable silence between us. I looked down at my left arm this time, my jumper sleeve masking the barbaric scars that still lay there, and then to both of my wrists, pink with the force Malfoy had put them under. I glanced up, my gaze reaching Malfoy's, who swallowed silently.

"Look, I didn't know what Bella was going to do to you."

"Bella?" I scoffed, my fingers curling around my wand again. "She's your aunt. I guess sadistic insanity runs in the family. How's your dear father, Malfoy?"

"Don't." He stood up, but I was so full of anger and fury directed towards him I couldn't have cared less whether Malfoy turned his wand on me.

"It's his own fault, you know. He shouldn't have been involved with Voldemort in the first place." I steadied my voice, keeping it from wavering and watched as Draco's wand slowly fell back to his side. "Now, you didn't completely explain my question earlier. _Why_ do you need it fixed?"

"Because it's my duty, and that's all I'm going to tell you," He looked down at his wand, a glimmer of a smile on his lips, "for now."

He waved his hand away, dismissing me. I tightened my grip on my wand, yet knowing if I did jinx him in any way it would do just as much harm to me as it would to him.

I stood up, shaking my head in frustration. I wasn't sure whether to be somewhat content that I knew what Malfoy was up to, or to be worried that I had felt the need to find out. Maybe it would have been for the best if I hadn't asked at all.

"You can't change any of this, can you?" I hesitated by the door, waiting for an answer. It was a shot in the dark, a hope that he felt some remorse for what he and Bellatrix Lestrange had done.

"Why on earth would I want to, even if I could?"

A shiver ran down my spine at those words. He wanted to give me hell. He wanted me to somehow become a part of Voldemort's grand scheme; a scheme, I deduced, that was meant to end in Harry's death. There was a faint click of the door behind me, hidden beneath my dry sobs.

I ran, obviously a school rule I never broke unless necessary, as a Prefect. It didn't matter. Everything, everything that had happened this year seemed trivial, almost silly compared to the truth of all that had just happened. Draco Malfoy wanted Harry dead. Dozens of Death Eaters wanted him dead too, of course, but he – Malfoy – what did he gain from doing this? He couldn't be that heartless. Sure, he was a Slytherin, probably the worst of the lot, but to kill another person? Why did he want to get involved? I wandered along with my thoughts down the hallways.

The corridors were empty as most students would have headed towards the Great Hall for dinner by now. Maybe it was worth just eating something, anything that might settle my nerves.

I jumped suddenly at the feel of someone's lips upon my cheek, to find Harry looking more than surprised that I had reacted that way.

"Coming for dinner? I was just heading back to the common room to see you... are you okay?" His unmistakable emerald eyes glimmered in curiosity, before he gave a worried frown.

"I just... feel a little unwell. Nothing a spot of food won't solve. How was the rest of your Christmas?"

"It was pretty good considering..." He shook away a thought and I raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Hermione, we should get around to talking to Ron properly. He wouldn't listen to a word I've said to him, but I'm sure he'll listen to the both of us. And I can't blame him. As a friend he did have a right to know what was going on between us."

"You're right."

"Excuse me... what was that?"

"Give yourself an Outstanding grade, Mr Potter. This must go down in history." I exaggerated, receiving a squeeze of my shoulder. Harry's thumb brushed against my arm in its usual habit. Something else was clearly on his mind, but I didn't want to pry if it didn't concern me. My curiosity was evidently my downfall.

"Thank you." He gave me a slight smug look, the flicker of sarcasm in his eyes.

"Harry, I know it's for the best and I can't stand his attitude about all of this, even if he does have his reasons. After dinner then? We'll try and talk to him?"

He nodded silently and reached for my hand. A cold sickening feeling dropped into my stomach moments after I realised what he'd done. I had done exactly the same thing when he first kissed me. To show I didn't want to leave, that it wasn't a mistake. That wasn't the thing that frightened me... it was the fact if I didn't do anything, I'd lose him for good. This was perfect, just us. Couldn't we have this for ourselves this once?

* * *

The redhead in question sat beside the fireplace in the common room, after a frustrating game of cat and mouse when we couldn't find him moments after finishing dinner. Whether his disappearing act was towards us or his possessive Miss Lavender Brown was a different matter.

"What do you two want?" Ron narrowed his eyes at us as if we were doing something downright immoral, hunched in an armchair.

"We just want to talk. You can shout at us later, but you have to hear us out." Harry sat on the couch opposite him, as did I.

"Fine, I'm listening."

Ron seemed almost as arrogant and harsh as any Slytherin, his eyes not reaching mine. I expected as much.

"We never meant for you to find out about us the way you did." I started slowly. "Harry and I were thinking of telling you over the few weeks before that. When I saw you around Lavender, I knew it was the worst time to mention anything."

"Ron, we've tried to find the right time to tell you. It wasn't just a stupid passing fancy of some girl..." Harry continued, and smiled apologetically to me for that last comment. "We were thinking seriously about it. Hermione was worried about your reaction the minute we... well, when we-"

"Kissed her? And this was what, months ago?" He added bluntly, "You were all over her after the match."

"That wasn't-" Harry paused, and looked down at his hands for a moment before continuing. "You're our best friend, and we knew you should have been the first to find out about us."

"Except Ginny seemed happy to say that she had found out first."

"That was my fault." I owned up, still not happy with Ron's tone, but I didn't make any mention towards it.

"I know."

"I didn't know what to do and Ginny _is_ your sister so it was only logical for me to ask her opinion—" I explained, before he cut me off.

"Some logic." He scoffed and leaned further back into his armchair. I couldn't stand his behaviour any longer.

"You and I had been fighting and falling out over things like Quidditch and school, so I never had a proper chance to talk to you without you almost biting my head off!" I whispered, but my agitation threatened to turn it into a shout. A few third-years nearby looked over at us.

"Well I can see that I was justified then!" He yelled back.

"Stop it. Just stop it, both of you." Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Ron. I don't care what you did at Christmas—"

"What did he do?" I asked, praying that they hadn't been beating one another's brains out.

"It doesn't matter. What does matter is that, Ron, you're my best mate and, like Hermione, I wasn't quite sure what to do so we just lay low for a while. What matters is that we have to move on from this."

"He's got his own apologies to make."

"Right. I'm sorry."

"I am too Ron, I didn't mean to make such a mess of this."

"Don't you get it though? It's not just the fact that it was behind my back. Hermione... I can't just think of you as someone else's – and that someone else being Lord Sir King Chosen One here."

"Wow, I wonder if that title will ever catch on." Harry mused with a grin, and Ron mirrored him, the first smile I'd seen them share in ages.

"I've spent a lot of time thinking too." I glanced back towards Harry, gesturing that I wanted to speak to Ron alone. A frown graced his eyes for a moment before he nodded, his hand slipping from my waist as he left the couch.

"If I ever said I... that I liked you, would you still have been with him?" Ron muttered.

"Ron, I love him. I've only realised recently just how much," I couldn't hide the coy smile from my lips until the knot in my stomach almost threatened to snap in half at the thought that my love for Harry was just going to make things all the more worse. "But it's hard to explain. I've had a lot to think about lately."

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing. Nothing concerning Harry at least." I blinked rapidly and returned to the subject in hand. "That's beside the point. Ron, just because I don't feel for you that way it doesn't mean there isn't anyone else for you."

Ron perked up, so I went on. "You're Ronald Weasley. Gryffindor Keeper and one of the bravest, funniest, maddest people I have ever met. No-one could ever say otherwise. Even though we can be at each other's throats, I could never hate you."

Ron pulled me into a crushing hug - quite surprising considering he was never one to really show affection – and whispering a sheepish 'sorry' into my ear. I returned the hug, glad that we were at least somewhat closer to our friendship.

"You wouldn't know how to get rid of a certain Lavender Brown for me, would you?" He whispered, and I tried my hardest not to laugh.

I wanted to help him. God, I couldn't stand that simpering Lav-Lav much either. Still, I had more pressing matters to worry about: the possible conspiracy to kill Harry James Potter. But did I really have any physical proof that Malfoy was a Death Eater?

* * *

**The plot thickens... *cue dramatic music* Hope you enjoyed, and I WILL try to update quicker... famous last words.**


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**AN: Should I make another self-depreciating comment about how late I am with this? I am so very very truly sorry I haven't had a lot of time to put my full attention onto this, but I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it too! And of course... I would know that all the better if you reviewed :D**

**On another note, if any of you are reading A Mystery Worth Knowing, I'm sorry to say that the story is pretty much on hiatus for the time being.**

* * *

Over the next few days I kept my distance from Malfoy. I was going to hold this off as long as I possibly could, and in all honesty, he didn't seem to be terribly eager to approach me for help either. Maybe he was waiting until I would cooperate properly. I'd sooner be kissed by a Dementor than cooperate with that good for nothing madman.

I still slept very little. This wasn't that out of the ordinary; I was a night owl on a regular basis. But I knew it was going to take its toll that someone would notice my exhaustion. Most nights, I didn't move from my bed despite Crookshanks's mews at my feet when I shifted restlessly. More problems started crowding my usually organised mind – my worries about Harry, something known as a horcrux which I had yet to find out about, having to purposefully do worse than Harry in Potions until Harry had any chance of asking Slughorn about these Horcruxes, and –_ of course, _Draco Malfoy's mission, the centre of all these nightmares.

* * *

Every sixth-year seemed to be constantly talking about Apparition lessons, and at seventeen, I was pleased to know that I could take the test this year. As I already knew, at Hogwarts nobody could Apparate out of the grounds, something I explained to Ron too many times to count. But this would give me some sense of freedom, no matter how small and insignificant its use might be now.

"Fred and George passed theirs first time. Charlie was in a right strop about that. He had to take the test twice," Ron mentioned on our way towards the Great Hall after our afternoon lessons, a hopeful look on his face.

"It shouldn't be too difficult." I mused, earning a reassuring squeeze from Harry.

"It's not exactly pleasant." Harry grimaced, and explained when he saw other sixth-years turning to look at him, impressed at the thought that he was accomplished in Apparition. "Side-Along Apparition, at least. I don't know if Apparating alone's as bad. I sure hope not."

I wondered whether something like this would keep my mind off Malfoy and this whole sorry business. The Great Hall had been transformed into a training area for now, hoops lain out in rows along the stone floor. An enthusiastic looking wizard who I quickly realised was our Apparition Instructor, Twycross, looked over us and began pointing us towards individual hoops.

"Harry, where are you going?" I called, raising an eyebrow as he scanned the room behind him.

The said person was dashing through the bustle of sixth-year students closer to the right wall of the hall. I frowned as he disappeared out of sight and I turned back to my own place. To my right was Susan Bones, to my left, Neville who looked considerably more nervous since he had entered the Hall.

Twycross was clearly trying his hardest to drive in the point of Determination, Deliberation and Destination. I'd read enough about Apparation to lose focus and try to locate Harry again. My heart became lodged in my throat. He was standing behind Draco Malfoy, of all people.

I swallowed. It was nothing. Harry was just being a little overly curious, that was all. Malfoy wouldn't be that dense to simply talk about his plans in public now, would he? In the space of half an hour, no one had been able to Apparate even an inch; I certainly couldn't. What determination did I have right now to focus upon a silly wooden hoop?

"Concentrate upon the space inside the hoop as your destination. One, two-"

There was a scream. I opened one eye, and turned to look. Susan's leg was in the same place it had started; the rest of her body however, was five feet away before she stumbled off balance to the floor. If it wasn't for the horrific reality, it would almost seem comical. A rush of people nearby started gasping and muttering between themselves, but Susan looked absolutely scared stiff.

"Susan, it's okay. Splinching's quite common when you start." I said, kneeling at her side, trying to set her mind at ease. "I'm sure the teachers can fix it. Look, there's no need to panic. Breathe."

"Hermione, are you sure? W-what's going to happen?" Susan whispered a shaky breath, her eyes screwed shut. I felt awful; if only I could help, I would.

"Miss Granger, dear, Filius and I will help." Professor Sprout assured, hand held my shoulder, willing me to step back.

In seconds, and a gigantic blast of purple smoke, Susan reappeared in perfect shape, all limbs attached. She was still deathly pale, almost close to fainting and she shook with fear at what had just happened to her. I gave her a smile and a quiet nod to assure her she was fine. She stood up slowly, her eyes appearing as though she was a rabbit caught in the headlights, until she relaxed again.

I couldn't take that image out of my mind, of Susan with her eyes shut tight. I'd felt that before. Shutting my eyes, hoping every awful thing that had happened was a nightmare, something that would simply vanish and solve itself. I wondered how often I had done that in my life - ever since I had seen Ron fall from that great stone horse, ever since I had seen Harry lie unconscious in the hospital wing after defeating Quirrell. Was I really that afraid of reality, in all honesty? I supposed I was the logical, level-headed witch who shouldn't be so scared of things like this. Was it wrong to be scared?

The session finished with no other fault or hitch, but also without any considerable progress. I left the Great Hall still in thought, unable to listen to Ron telling me how pale I looked. Until I heard someone call after me.

"Oi Mudblood! Surprised you weren't Splinched back there. Of course, why your blood would ever be worthy to fall upon the floors that we Purebloods walk on—"

My throat instantly grew dry. Malfoy insulted me often enough, it was almost a daily custom, but I always ignored it thinking he couldn't come up with something smarter than calling me a Mudblood. How dare he? I shook my head, about to turn around until I saw Harry advancing in Malfoy's direction, pure hatred in his eyes.

No. I couldn't let him hit Malfoy. Just as many students were watching me as they were Malfoy and Harry. I ran and caught Harry's elbow before he could send a punch at the blond Slytherin slimeball.

"Harry! Don't!" I said sternly, and was met by Harry's look of confusion and rage.

"Hermione, how can I just let him–" Harry glowered. His other hand reached for his pocket, soon grasping his wand.

I glanced around; several Gryffindors were surrounding us, wands in hands, looking daggers at Malfoy too.

"I don't care. He's not even worth it," I raised my voice and sent a scowl towards Malfoy, directing my next words at him. "He's sick, he's twisted, and he's just a pathetic excuse for a human being if he finds any enjoyment out of saying things like that."

Malfoy's face was still unreadable, his smirk still precariously leering at us. Nothing could make him falter, the same stony look in his eyes.

"Come on, before you draw more attention to yourself." I whispered to Harry and tore my gaze from Malfoy's. I felt Harry's hand relax in mine. He turned away with a knowing smile, as if he had something else planned for a better moment. I hoped that wasn't so.

"Go on Potter. Follow your little Mudblood—"

"Mr Malfoy!" A familiar booming voice resonated across the hall, belonging to Professor Slughorn. I didn't need to stay around to know what his reaction would be towards Malfoy. "You should never be so insulting about someone's blood status. I'm taking twenty points from Slytherin just for that remark, and a detention tonight, eight o'clock. You're a prefect so you should be setting a good example—"

Harry and I disappeared up the grand staircase, catching only the first part of what was indeed going to be a lengthy lecture. Malfoy deserved that at the very least. Harry seemed at least slightly satisfied that Malfoy had gotten in trouble, but I knew he wished he could have had the last say.

"Why did you do that?" He asked incredulously, leaning against a wall casually. He wasn't accusing me; he simply wanted to know why I didn't react the same way.

"It's not that I don't think you can handle it yourself, but there's no point in fighting over something so petty."

Harry looked fit to explode, wondering if I was putting on a calm front, before a shouted whisper escaped him, "He insulted you! That must be the worst thing I've heard him say about you."

"Harry, he's trying to wind _you_ up, trying to provoke _you_. I told you, I don't care about his stupid remarks and neither should you. Anyway, I'm a prefect too; I can't just allow students to have fights in the corridors."

He rested his head back against the wall, his eyes closed and his lips set in that familiar way when he was deep in thought. He sighed, before accepting the fact that I was right. In actual fact, I was only half-right. Of course I was furious with Malfoy, but violence was definitely not going to be the answer to any of this.

"You're always the voice of reason, Hermione. Always." He grinned with a light-hearted roll of his eyes. His hand reached for my chin, a finger trailing along my jaw until his lips touched mine. A wonderful kiss, yet a small voice in my mind – one that frequently seemed to appear – wanted to tell me it was terrible to do this, to simply try and live as though nothing had changed.

"And I pride myself in that. Thank you." I smiled, pecking his lips lightly again to his surprise. "I'll see you soon Harry, I need to go to the library."

I turned to my studies even more than usual, which shouldn't have even been possible considering the amount of studying I did in the first place. After an hour or so, and several detailed rolls of parchment later, I glimpsed a flame-haired girl drag back the chair opposite me.

"Hi Ginny," I smiled over my parchment, my quill poised to finish a footnote. A thought struck me. "Can I ask what made Harry so furious with Ron in the holidays?"

"I guess you'd find it out anyway." She whispered, dropping her satchel beside her and leaned her head down low, glancing around as if Ron would suddenly appear. Ha, Ron Weasley in a library. That would never happen. "Ron swapped your Christmas present with Kreacher's."

"And what did Kreacher get Harry?" I muttered.

"Maggots."

Ginny could obviously tell I was less than delighted with what Ron had done, as she reached across and plucked my quill from my hand, which would have nearly been in the process of snapping, or possibly being stabbed through parchment. I was nearly incensed enough to roll my eyes – Ron didn't have to behave so childishly, even if he wasn't happy with my relationship with Harry.

"Hermione, Ron did it to annoy Harry, and Harry got him back anyway. Fred and George were willing to be allies with him," Ginny smiled mischievously.

"I'm guessing it wasn't suitable to put in a letter?"

"Harry seemed a bit worried that you would find out," She then was suddenly upon the brink of laughter, and quickly let on. "Let's just say it involved a gnome, several dozen snowballs and... well, a particular trick courtesy of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes itself. Ron made a certain prat of himself to say the least."

We were almost in hysterics until Madam Pince sent a glower at us from a bookshelf nearby, and we immediately silenced.

"This is a library, Miss Weasley, Miss Granger. If you want to screech like banshees I suggest you do so somewhere else." She huffed, before marching past us with a cold demeanour.

"What's up with her?" I settled down, my laughter subsiding.

"Filch turned her down, I bet." Ginny grinned, and I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from starting up again. She sighed, before looking back up at me with a nervous glance. "Hermione, I wanted to ask you... well, I've just finished writing to Fred and George. Dean told me what happened after Apparition lessons, so would you want me to mention anything about a suitable plan to set Malfoy straight?"

"Ginny, if you fight fire with fire..." I started, but I knew there was little to stop a very determined Ginny from reaching her goal, and there was no way I would let any violence be used towards Malfoy, despite how much he deserved. "Don't go overboard."

"I'll head on over to the Owlery, see you later?"

After finishing the conclusion of an essay by six o'clock, something else soon came to mind: horcruxes. There had to be at least one book that mentioned them, and I knew exactly where it could be. The Restricted Section. Asking Madam Pince, she rolled her eyes and allowed me to find a book as long as I turfed out any loitering students still in the Restricted Section.

I wandered the bookcases, until I saw a thin silhouette beside the last bookcase, a single lantern light glowing beside him as he seemed to feverishly flick through pages, a hand running through his hair.

"Sorry, but Madam Pince is closing the library – _you_!" I said, approaching him. And as if luck would have it, Draco Malfoy looked up at once with a roguish grin. I was close to shouting, but soon checked myself, my voice hissing, "Don't you dare do anything to provoke Harry again!"

"Excuse me, Granger?" He licked his thumb and turned a page of his book, and began slowly scanning the pages as if he was none the wiser.

"You wanted him to retaliate!" I accused, the anger I had locked away in my mind coming to the frontline. "He almost punched you, he was close to hexing you, and I know how well he duels, so you'd better-"

"What? _Watch my back_?" He mocked, his grin widening like that of a chesire cat.

"Malfoy!" I stressed.

"I was just wondering how far you'd go to cover it all up and prevent anything from happening." He said with an edge to his voice. I guessed he thought it was my fault he was now serving detention with Slughorn. "Well, you succeeded."

I frowned, speechless. This was a test? An initiation? Who was he to demand what I was supposed to do? I turned my back on him, my hand clutching the spine of the leather book tightly. In some odd way, it seemed as if he wanted me to be his security, a keeper of peace between him and anyone who could cross him.

"I hated to admit it, but if you're willing to stop your precious Potter from doing anything stupid, maybe there's hope for you after all." He spat, his glare following me as he stood up.

"Malfoy, _you_ were the one acting stupid. Hell, you weren't _acting_."

His hand tugged my book hard from my grasp, its pages splayed open upon the floor. It gave a faint wail and moan as it thudded. I was forced to look up, about to make another harsh comment before he spoke again.

"You were saving your own skin as well, weren't you?" He looked me dead in the eyes, waiting for me to speak the truth. His cold gaze narrowed.

"You knew that if Potter punched the living daylights out of me – which wouldn't ever happen of course, I can look after myself – you would be hurt in the process."

He stepped forwards until I staggered against the bookcase, my shoes sliding upon the wooden floor, but not once did I look away from him. He was never going to get the upper hand in this.

"Don't deny it, Granger."

"_Deny it_?" I breathed slowly, and kicked his ankles as he was about to take one more step. "Stay away from me. You don't have a clue what you've done, have you?"

"Granger—"

I stopped. I rested my head on my arms, keeping any waver at bay and speaking as plainly as possible to him.

"This is all just a _game_ to you, isn't it? You want me to just do your bidding and then leave me to rot. I didn't expect anything less from you. You have no idea how much I would have wanted you dead just then. But where would that leave me? I'd be on the floor in pain, Harry would piece it all together and of course, much to your enjoyment, I'd be dead too."

I heard an indistinct sound, a sigh, a word, I wasn't quite sure.

"So... you're playing God here. You could have me killed in an instant." I stated coolly.

It was true. It hadn't taken me long to realise it all: if I told anybody about this, if I tried to stop Malfoy from doing this, if I didn't help him fix the Cabinet and do whatever needed doing, I'd die, simple as that. Yet it was now of all times that I wasn't scared, even if I had every right to be. I guessed it was because Malfoy couldn't do it, that he couldn't bring himself to kill another person, could he?

So there was still a way out, even if it was downright stupid, immoral and awful in every way. I'd have to help Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy?"

He wasn't there. He'd disappeared, the conniving spineless coward that he was. This was going to eat me up inside until he told me every little detail about what he was up to. He couldn't trust me – that wasn't hard to believe. But I wasn't going to do a thing unless he revealed all.

I grabbed the book and calmly left the library with what dignity I had left.

* * *

I stumbled through the portrait hole after hours later that evening, a few sympathetic looks from other sixth-years smiling my way as they left the common room. A familiar face stared back at me once the room had emptied, and the voice accompanying it was equally as worried.

"Hermione."

Harry reached out his hand, teasing a stray curl behind my ear before holding me close. His arms were soft, warm from the jumper he had only recently discarded. He didn't ask any questions, I assumed he didn't need to, as though he could already roughly guess what was wrong with me. Wrong with me... everything was wrong. I was a liar, a double-crosser, a traitor. I heard a faint shushing sound against my ear, soothing me; it reminded me of how my parents comforted me.

"Harry, I'm sorry..."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Hermione." He whispered, his hand resting on my back. I pulled back abruptly. No, it wouldn't do any good to have someone else worry about my own problems. I had to do this on my own. If I couldn't survive one day of Malfoy's insulting, I wouldn't ever get through this.

"I, er..." My hand felt for the back of the armchair as I dodged my way behind it, averting my gaze from his. "I should get some sleep."

"Is it Malfoy? What he said earlier about..."

He took a step forward, his eyes shining with that same curious compassion. I couldn't stand it. I didn't need it; I didn't deserve even a single shred of it. If only he knew, he would never forgive me. The guilt was gnawing away at me that I couldn't do anything, that I couldn't say a single word to him without a lie being spun, leaving a web in its wake.

I nodded silently. The less I said the better. I only made things worse by interfering, asking questions, telling information. And where had that all gotten me?

"It's nothing. Harry, you have enough to worry about besides me—"

"Right now, I couldn't care less about myself."

"Please, Harry. Just concentrate on finding that information from Slughorn. And I'll just keep my eye... keep my eye on anything Malfoy is doing."

I anticipated any sudden pain, a jolt, a shock of some kind, but it never came. When would I stretch the limit?

"Do you think he's still going to the Room of Requirement then?" He gestured to a folded piece of parchment, lying beside an array of essays and textbooks.

I closed my eyes, choosing my next words carefully.

"Let me see. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." I scanned the inky footprints quickly, my wandlight hovering around a plan of the dungeons. "There he is. Down in the potions classroom, well, he does have a detention after all."

"Harry, you either need your glasses sorted out, or you're paranoid." I added lightly.

"_I'm_ paranoid?" Harry laughed, and he received a poking in the ribs.

My skin crawled, which had nothing to do with the ticklish wool of my jumper. What on earth was I saying? He shouldn't be placing his trust in me. Not now. What could I ever tell him about Malfoy? Barely anything. All I could do is dodge his questions, tell lies outright. I was no help at all.

The map. How could I have forgotten about the Marauders' Map? My nails fidgeted as I wondered. Harry didn't seem as though he had caught on at all, his focus suddenly turning to Quidditch tactics, scribbles covering a scrap of parchment. Had he ever seen me alone in the same room as Malfoy? How on earth I was supposed to get myself out of a situation like that I had no idea.

With a smile, Harry pulled me close again; a single kiss placed on my forehead relaxing the frown lines that must have appeared there. His lips moved closer to my own, and I couldn't help but kiss him back with all my heart, trying to tell him everything I couldn't aloud.

For a few moments, Harry's eyes seemed to search mine intriguingly, until I moved back with a shaky smile and continued the conversation.

"What happened in the Apparition lesson? Did you hear anything from Malfoy?"

"I'm not completely sure what I heard. What I grasped is that Crabbe and Goyle aren't happy being his lackeys, and he doesn't seem to care that much. I'm wondering if he's getting outside help."

Oh, how _very_ close he was to the truth.


	16. A NOTE TO READERS

_**Readers: (01/07/12)**_

_**I would just like to say, to those who may be aware that I am still alive but have had to neglect my fanfiction for an incredibly long time.**_

_**I am deciding to remove A Secret Worth Keeping/A Mystery Worth Knowing as the plans I had created for it went askew, and have been lost due to computer problems. I also think that writing it became more of a hassle than something that I had actually enjoyed writing when I'd started with it. Considering I started it without a clue where it was going, and was in the process of editing to improve it chapter by chapter, I think it has now become something I no longer want to work on.**_

_**I also think there is no use to it still being on this site, despite the brilliant and encouraging reviews I received for it so long ago.**_

_**If anyone would want to carry it on for themselves, I would happily offer up this fanfic for someone else to carry on and do with it what they will.**_

_**Green With Envy is, however, quite promising in being carried on even after all this time! I still have its plot outline, so I may continue with it in the near or distant future. If so, I will be removing the original and reposting chapters from the very start again.**_

_**Many sincere apologies to my old readers.**_

_**Little Miss Loony**_


End file.
